


Thousand Words

by ExecutiveShrimp



Category: Gundam Wing
Genre: Anal Sex, Best Friends, Drama, First Kiss, First Meetings, First Time, Friends With Benefits, M/M, Oral Sex, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-24
Updated: 2015-03-06
Packaged: 2018-03-14 23:26:15
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 22
Words: 213,639
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3429371
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ExecutiveShrimp/pseuds/ExecutiveShrimp
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>AU, 2x1: Duo and Heero have to share a dorm room in college and they become best friends. When they discover that neither has time for, nor interest in a girlfriend, they explore a friends with benefits relationship. But sex never remains uncomplicated.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Thousand words**

**_One_ **

I watched the reflection of the taxi in the mirrored windows of skyscrapers, to the smell of pastrami, sweat and cheap deodorant and the sound of a DJ making crude jokes. Movement was slow. We had been stuck in traffic for God knows how long, in the middle of down town, the business district. I remembered the buildings from my childhood. A taxi cab just like this one would pick me up from school and drop me off at my mother's office, all the way up in one of the tallest skyscrapers. It used to be pretty cool as a child, pretending to save the princess from the top of the story. The story got old quickly, I did too. At my dad's office, I was never welcome.

"What are you thinking about?" My too-interested-for-comfort driver inquired, looking at me through the rear-view mirror. He was probably as bored as I was, the scenery had remained unchanged, we were surrounded by the same cars we were when we first hit the traffic jam and rain poured down from the dreary, grey skies, beating down on the roof like drums.

"Nothing." I replied. It really was nothing.

He kept looking at me, inappropriately long and intensely. Poor little rich boy, he must be thinking. I could read it all over his face. I've read it all over many people's faces during my supposedly blessed lifetime.

I glared back at him. "Do you mind?" It used to make me feel guilty, now it just made me feel as unsympathetic and insensitive as they presumed me to be. I tapped my fingers impatiently on the large art folder that lay in my lap.

"Are you an artist?"

I snorted. "I wish." Then I sighed dramatically and looked around myself in frustration, looking at the people in the neighboring cars. "What could possibly be taking so long?" I wondered.

"Accident." My driver answered, even though I hadn't addressed my question so much to him as to the mysterious and unfortunate working of the universe. "An ambulance and police car rushed by fifteen minutes ago."

I blinked, tensing up. "Fifteen minutes? How long-" I noticed the red digits of the clock on the dashboard. "That's the time?" I exclaimed. "Seriously, we have been standing here for over forty minutes? Why didn't you say something? I specifically told you I had to be there on time!"

The driver shrugged, not really bothered by my problems, they were, after all, my problems. "Nothing can be done anyway. Besides, I get paid by the minute."

In the small rear-view mirror I caught a glimpse of his grin. The meter didn't lie, I owed him twenty-one dollars and counting. "Great. Great!" The money didn't bother me, the time did. I gazed outside the window, as if the solution would come to me. And through the thick sheets of rain, it did. My eyes focused on a sign on the sidewalk just up ahead and I squinted to read the text.

My hands fumbled to find their way into the pocket of my pants as quickly as possible. I raised my hips off the seat to pull out my wallet. In the meantime, I spoke with hurried words: "There is a subway station right there!"

He didn't look surprised at all. His shrugged his broad shoulders again and said sarcastically: "Oops."

"Oops." I repeated, with a grumbling tone. I handed him a selection of bills that added up to twenty five dollars, I didn't have small change, probably a 'rich kid's thing'. I held it out to him. "Keep the change." I said, because I was in a hurry, but as soon as he took the money from me I shook my head and figured that after all this wasted time, it could wait a little longer. "You know what? No, I'll take the change."

He took his time sorting out the coins while I kept tapping my fingers on the folder. He dumped them into my hand. I didn't bother putting the coins in my wallet, I stuffed the coins in my right pocket, the wallet in the left and kicked the door open. "Have a nice day." I snapped. I was so sick and tired of people having their judgments at the ready at the sight of my expensive wool coat. I walked around the cab to the back. The rain instantly soaked my hair and my pants legs. I prayed the folder was, as advertised, waterproof. I cursed when the trunk was still closed. I waited only briefly before slamming my hand down and shouting: "Hey!"

At the second 'Hey' the trunk was popped open. I grabbed my heavy duffel bag and slung it over my shoulder. Without thinking twice about it, I started walking away, out of traffic, onto the sidewalk, leaving the trunk open.

"Fuck you!" Was heard over the rain hitting the pavement and the windows of the buildings. I didn't pay any heed. With a hastened stride I approached the entry to the subway station. The strap of my bag dug into my shoulder painfully. Exposed to the rain, my braid became a heavy weight suspended from the back of my head and my long, haphazard bangs clung to my face and partly obstructed my eyes.

"Can't believe I'm doing this. Can't believe it." I muttered to myself. "This better be worth it."

I sighed in relief when I was at the bottom of the stairs and protected against the onslaught of rain. I consulted a subway map to find the appropriate line and corresponding platform. For the first time that day, I was in luck. The train arrived at the platform just as I did and I gratefully stepped on board. It was too crowded to take a seat, so I stood by the door, holding one of the bars for supports as the train jolted and shook along the underground tracks. I shook my hand and wrist out of my sleeve to look at my watch disapprovingly.

When the doors opened at my station I burst through the doors like a racehorse and ran up the stairs, back to the outside world, where light was believed to exist only it was now overshadowed by clouds. The rain had let up a little and had been reduced to a miserable drizzle. But it didn't matter anyway, I was already wet, it couldn't get any worse. I turned around and there was a moment of calm and relief as I was faced with the only building that had ever been my home.

It wasn't statuesque or imposing, like the ivy league universities my parents would have preferred me to end up, it was just an unremarkable, modernistic building, imposing only in its size. The university offered a great variety of majors to a great variety of people. And all these different people were thrown together, organized only by gender, in the large dorm room buildings, directly adjacent to the university itself. The whole was enclosed by a fence, circling the firm basis of my life.

Students were drumming through the gates, chatting and reminiscing and dreading the following academic year, all carrying bags or suitcases, girls oftentimes both.

I jogged through the open gate, recognizing a couple of familiar faces. I waved at them, so as not to seem rude, but I had no time to listen to day-by-day descriptions of their eight week summer break. Some of them called my name enthusiastically, that I just pretended not to hear.

I crossed campus to my dorm building, building B. I could see it in the distance, amidst the other dorm room buildings. It wasn't the only thing I could see in the distance.

He was walking about fifty yards in front of me, carrying a relatively modestly sized duffel bag and his laptop bag. He didn't seem to be in a rush, not surprising, because he arrogantly assumed I would be late anyway. I scowled at myself for proving him right for yet another year.

"Hey Duo."

I jumped when I was suddenly hugged by someone. Judging by the mass of blond hair I found my nose buried in, it also wasn't the person I particularly appreciated hugs from.

"Hey... Relena."

Her smile was beaming, but she always smiled for all the wrong reasons so it didn't give me a reassuring feeling. "Hope you weren't too lonely this summer." She sweetly expressed, demonstratively looking back over her shoulder.

I followed her gaze to Hilde, a short distance away from us, talking to classmates and desperately pretending not to be acutely attuned to our conversation. All teachers say at the end of high school that life will never be same again. Interestingly, I have found that college life is frighteningly akin to my pathetic existence in high school, with much as the same drama, evolving around the same kind of girls. This made me question the education of those teachers. "No... I managed." I looked over my shoulder, seeing him getting further and further away from us, getting closer to building B. "Relena, I-"

"Look," she interrupted, her voice suddenly not so sweet anymore. "It's raining, so if I want to save my hair, we have to make this quick. Part one: I don't like you, you don't like me. Part two: Hilde likes you, you like Hilde. So if you ask me, we should just beating around the bush. I should not be talking to you. You should be talking to Hilde."

The warmth of the summer sun had almost made me forget why we always refer to her as 'that psycho-bitch', but now that it was starting to get cold again, so did she. "Relena, you approached me." I pointed out.

She rolled her eyes. "Only because Hilde asked me to." She looked back at her friend again, forced on a smile and waved.

Hilde pretended like she didn't know what the whole gesture was about and shot a strange look our way before turning back to her own conversation.

I sighed. "Relena, I get that you are trying to be a friend, but maybe you would be a better friend if you would just help Hilde realize that we are not going down that road again. I'm sorry."

She put her hands on her hips theatrically. "Ugh. Whatever." She flipped her hair. "Maybe you should be a better friend and tell Heero-"

I tuned her out.

I shared a brief look with Hilde, who no longer pretended to be interested in the holiday pictures of one of her friends. I didn't even attempt to read her expression. She was an excellent liar. I had liked her, I just couldn't trust her anymore and I didn't feel like throwing myself back into all that drama because I was taught by the nanny, in the absence of an interested father and devoted mother, that I should always take the high road and try to be friends with everyone. Sometimes, friendship doesn't last, because some people are absolutely crazy.

The clock struck with an echo that traveled across the campus and I was reminded of why my steps had been so hurried and why I had gotten myself soaking wet. "Say, Relena." I blurted before she could walk away. "Have you talked to Heero?"

She seemed taken aback by this question. "Why?"

"Well, he's been away all summer, right? Things might not have changed between Hilde and me, but that doesn't mean things haven't changed between you two." Oh, I was bad, I was very bad. I was horrible and I would surely be reminded of that.

She cocked her head, questioning the integrity of my intentions. Rightfully so. "I've been meaning to talk to him. I just haven't seen him yet."

"He just walked by here." I turned at pointed at Heero, dangerously close to building B. "He's right there."

"Later!" She said and then she rushed after Heero in her high heels, suddenly not so bothered by the state of her hair anymore in the slow, drizzling rain.

I ran in a different direction, going around building A to approach our building from the back and enter through the emergency fire exit, rather than the front door where Heero was headed. There was no paved path leading up to the back door. My shoes were getting wet and stained in the high grass, but I didn't care, they were an ugly, decadent pair that I wouldn't usually wear anyway. Normally the fire exit wouldn't open from the outside, but I knew certain routines would never change and that door would have already been sneakily forced open. I was right. I pushed inside and stepping into the central hallway of the dorm building was like coming home. And it really was.

A surprised face poked out of the kitchen. Wild, red hair contrasted with an extremely pale complexion. A grin appeared as he recognized me. "Dude!"

"Hey Nash." I hurried through the hallway, to the stairs. All the common rooms were downstairs, living room, TV room, dining hall, large kitchen and two bathrooms. The twelve small bedrooms, all with bunk beds, were upstairs. "Stocking up the fridge huh?" I asked as I passed him.

He knocked two bottles of beer together. "Sure am. Monday mornings feel like a hangover anyway, might as well have the party and get drunk the night before." He chuckled as I started climbing the stairs with haste. "I guess that answers my question whether you are still doing that thing with Heero."

"Yep, still doing the thing!" I called as I reached the top of the staircase. I adjusted the strap of my bag and took the final few steps to the third door on the right. Most of the doors were chaotically decorated with posters from favorite rock bands, pictures of scantily dressed women and stolen advertisements of violent video games. Our door was no different, but special nonetheless.

Stupid as it was, my heart thudded as I took out my bundle of keys. Even though I had sacrificed Heero to Relena as a necessary distraction to stall him, Heero wasn't must of a conversationalist, but he was a wizard in cutting every social exchange that he felt no desire to engage in, short. Resorting to impolite methods of the past if he must.

I turned the key and pushed the door open. The room was dark. The curtains were closed and no lights were on. The room smelled a little dusty, but still like us and even though I would never admit it, I liked it. I flicked on the lights and grinned when I saw the bare mattresses of the bunk beds, the pillows and sheets were still stored in the boxes underneath the bottom bunk.

I unceremoniously dumped my bag in a corner and propped my art folder against the side of the small desk underneath the equally small window. Standing by the bed, I briefly caught my own reflection in the mirror on the door of our closet. My expensive, black wool coat. My expensive, brown, tailor made dress pants. My expensive, Italian leather, handmade shoes. I couldn't wait to get into a cotton T-shirt that I got for free at a festival, worn jeans and beat up shoes. But that would have to wait. First, I wanted to savor my moment of victory.

I climbed into the top bunk and lay down on my back with a sigh, my hands pillowing my head in the absence of an actual pillow. I casually crossed my legs at the ankle.

Three heartbeats later, the door opened.

"Hey there, slowpoke." I taunted. I looked down my legs, through the space between my feet at the face that appeared just above the footboard of the top bunk. Not a happy face.

"Hey snotty little rich kid." Was the reply and then the sound of a bag being lowered to the floor. He closed the door behind him.

I smiled, for some reason, I could take it from him. Probably because he was the only person in my life to recognize there was more to me than that.

He walked around to come stand next to the bunk bed, his head tilted, his eyes glaring. "Thanks for ratting me out to Relena, asshole."

I rolled onto my side and just couldn't stop grinning at him. "It was my last chance to win."

"So, how does the other half spend the summer vacation?"

I sat up, my legs dangling over the edge at the ladder. "On my ass in an air-conditioned, blinded room listening to passive aggressive music." I shot back.

A tiny smile appeared on his lips as Heero placed his laptop back on the desk. When he turned back to face me Heero eyed my pants and shoes, noting how unsuitable they were on me. I appreciated that he noticed. The question was evident in his expressive eyes.

I rolled my eyes and quoted my father: "People in coach wear childish trends. People in first class wear timeless style."

He snorted. "I take it you've had a long flight."

"Not long enough not to beat you." I retorted with the return of the grin. "So what about you, how was your flight?"

Heero shook his ratty old coat off his shoulders and draped it over the back of one of the two chairs that were cramped at the desk. He meaningfully looked down at himself, then back up at me.

I noticed his beaten-up sneakers, his old, worn jeans - holes included - and that button-up shirt with black and blue lumberjack pattern that he seemed to prefer over his other shirts even though it was faded.

He shook his head and a tired chuckle escaped him. "Guess in what part of the plane I was seated."

I offered a sad smile. Strange how sometimes both of us wished we had the life of the other. "How was your vacation?"

Heero shrugged. He hoisted his bag up onto the desk and zipped it open. He started to unpack, putting small stacks of clothes on the shelves in his half of the closet. As he worked, he replied with a monotonous voice: "Work, mostly. Thirteen hours a day, five days a week. My mom had arranged a job for me at an old colleague's diner in advance. It was fine though, not as much stress as here, during courses." Whenever Heero talked monotonously, it was clear that he wasn't fine, so I trusted his tone, not his words.

"And your grandma?" I inquired carefully. I didn't want to come across as insensitive.

He paused in front of the closet briefly, dragging out the act of putting away his jeans to avoid having to look at me. His shoulders looked slumped and defeated. He must also be very tired. All summers were difficult times for him. "It was nice." He started and turned around with an impassive face to continue unpacking. "I had two days a week off, so I got to spend some time with her and with the money I've earned I've bought her at least another seven months in the nursing home and covered some of the medical bills so..."

I jumped down from the bed and hesitantly approached him. In his eyes I could see his struggles. I decided to overcome those inhibitions that guys just have with regards to physical contact with each other and I closed the distance between us, embracing him, with arms tightly wrapped around him. He returned the hug uncomfortably, but gratefully. When things started to get too awkward we patted each other on the back and broke apart.

To lighten the mood I joked: "You're just trying to guilt me out of the top bunk."

We both chuckled, relieving most of the tension.

"It's good to see you again, man." I admitted. "It's weird every summer, being away from you." When I had realized what I had said and how it had sounded, I added casually: "Not getting woken up at six am every morning because my anal retentive roommate is one of those perverted examples of the human race that can actually function before eight o'clock and a cup of coffee and wants to go for a run. I swear, for the first month I just kept waking up at six."

He grinned. "I'll make a morning person out of you yet."

"Oh, but I am a morning person. I spend my mornings very productively. I solve world problems ya know?"

"The only problem you solve in the early morning is your morning stiffy. That hardly qualifies as worldly."

At his comment I felt my face becoming hot. I never knew that was something he had noticed. I had always confidently believed I was able to hide my hormonal relief routines pretty expertly. I noticed his face was getting a little redder at the cheeks as well. But we managed to laugh it off.

I unpacked and got changed as Heero made his bed. For the first time, the bed he was making, was the bottom one. All previous years, Heero had managed to conquer the top bunk.

I didn't feel uncomfortable getting undressed in his presence, even in tight quarters such as our tiny, shared room. I wasn't particularly uncomfortable with any guy, getting undressed in front of them. Being captain of the basketball team since high school I've shared many public showers with a group of loudmouthed guys and it was just normal, accompanied by the to-be-expected nudity-related bantering.

My father could not wrap his head around the fact that I felt comfortable sharing such a small space and so much time with someone else. He grew up a rich kid himself, his dad had bought him an apartment close to Harvard. There was never any doubt that he would be going to Harvard. When I failed to get into an ivy league university, even though in my dad's mind there had also never been any doubt about me going to Harvard, he made it clear what my punishment would be. He could have never guessed that even though I had only three shelves for my clothes, had to share a desk with a bossy, overachieving fellow-student, had to share two bathrooms with twenty-four absolute pigs and had to sleep in a bunk bed, it was exactly what I had wanted and had acquainted me with my first true friend.

I had missed him, but I couldn't say that. I wanted to, it just didn't feel right. I didn't want to come across as some sort of sentimental fag. So instead, when his elbow accidentally hit me in the side as he was arranging the sheets, I punched him on his back.

He threw a look at me over his shoulder, angry at first, but it was dissipated by a smirk. "Like you could beat me." He stated arrogantly.

His comment inadvertently sent me on a trip down memory lane...

"Well, what do you think, dad?" I asked when the limo came to a halt in front of the main gate of the university campus.

He disapprovingly peered out the window, only briefly, he already at his judgment ready. He looked back down at the business papers in his lap. He always looks back down at the business papers. Absentmindedly he commented: "It's not Harvard."

"Keen sense of observation you have." I sneered in reply.

"Don't give me that tone, son. Remember, I am still paying for this joke."

"It's not a joke, dad." I tried for the last time. "It's a legit university."

His response was his usual speech. "Harvard is the number one university in the United States of America. It is the oldest, higher education institution in the country and has the largest endowment of any school in the world. This," He threw a disgusted look outside, "is not even ranked. Anyone can get in. It is a joke."

"Well then so am I." I spat and I stepped out of the car with large, angry movements. "And you can go ahead and laugh." I added.

"Believe me, son. Laughing is the last thing I want to do." He never even looked up as he scribbled his signature on the bottom of a page.

I slammed the door shut, muttering curses under my breath.

The chauffeur had already been outside, waiting for me, holding my bag. He offered it to me with one of those dreaded, slave-like: "Master Maxwell."

I ripped my bag out of his hands. "Don't call me that." Master Maxwell is my father and I wished to never become like him or have people think that I already was him.

The bag was heavily weighing down on my shoulder. My anger was heavily weighing down on my heart. I watched the chauffeur get back behind the wheel of the European brand limousine and without bothering to say goodbye, my father must have ordered him to leave, because the car slowly started to pull away, leaving me behind to embark on this challenge alone.

I looked back at the university. The building was tall, I would be climbing a lot of staircases between classes, I feared. Steadily more students were being dropped off. I watched longingly and filled with jealousy as parents hugged their children goodbye and wished them luck, a lot of parents even accompanied their child inside.

I started through the gates alone.

Upon entry, I was greeted by a senior student, it said so on her sweater. Pinned to her sweater was a nametag with her name and the phrase: "Ask me anything, I am here to help you."

"Hi! Are you here for first year orientation?"

"Yeah." I replied. The enthusiasm had sort of been sucked out of me by the old man.

"Well, the meetings start at two, so you have a little time to make yourself at home in your dorm. Follow me!"

I followed her to a set of tables just beyond the gate with laptops set up. Other senior students with similar sweaters and nametags surrounded the tables and the laptops, along with what I presumed to be other first year students. I felt painfully out of place in my suit and fancy shoes. My father always insisted that I should dress like a respectable man, even though he expressed his lack of faith that I would ever become one. Unbeknownst to him, my bag was filled with jeans and five-dollar T-shirts.

She sat down behind a laptop as soon as one became available and asked for my name.

"Duo Maxwell."

She looked up at me incredulously. "Seriously? Like, one of the Maxwells?"

I shrugged. "Yeah." My last name always impressed others more than it did me. As soon as they heard that name, they put two and two together.

"Cool!" She started working on the laptop.

Not so much, I thought to myself.

She opened a small, locked case and produced a key with a large keychain that said B-3. "You've been assigned to dorm building B. It's the one right there." She pointed to the second building, with a big, obvious B on it. "Your room is number 3, it's the third door on the right. And your roommate is already here, so you can get to meet him."

I accepted the key. "Thanks." I halfheartedly joked: "No co-ed dorms?"

She chuckled. "No. But dorms aren't organized by year or majors, so you get to meet a lot of new, interesting people with different interests." she said it like she had read it in a brochure somewhere.

"Great. Can't wait." I said sarcastically and then I was on my way to dorm building B, room number three. How corny that it rhymes, I thought.

The front door was propped wide open. In the main hall and in the common rooms, parents and children were talking loudly and excitedly. I didn't mingle and instead, went straight upstairs. The hall upstairs was more quiet. Most people had joined the crowds downstairs and outside. I could instantly tell which rooms would be occupied by first-years, it were the blank doors. All the others were decorated with posters and stolen road signs.

I walked over to the third door and found it to be unlocked. I gingerly stepped inside. The curtains were wide open, bright light pouring in.

Standing in the doorway, I took the room in. There wasn't much to see. The door was on the far left end of the room. To my right was the bunk bed, across a narrow space from that, was a small desk under the window. On the far right wall there was a single closet, with a full length mirror on the door, facing into the room. Then I noticed the olive green duffel bag in the corner by the desk and I realized I was not alone. I had been warned my roommate was already here, but I hadn't expected him to actually be in the room, considering all the familial fun going on downstairs.

I looked at the top bunk and was faced with the worn soles of his sneakers. I walked around, to stand next to the bed. "Hey." I tried casually. I dropped my heavy bag down.

He turned his head to look at me. He didn't seem particularly interested, nor excited. He lay stretched out on the top bunk bed, his hands behind his head. Just from the amount of space of the bed he took in, I could already tell he was short and he had a slight, lean build to him. He wore dark jeans with holes at the knees and a faded, grey T-shirt with a combination of English and unreadable Asian text on it. The combination was a striking representation of his face, which seemed to be an equal mix of Western and Eastern. His angular features were delicate and tanned with a soft, golden hue. His big eyes stood out, I couldn't help but stare into them, feeling a little intimidated by the cold glare from his cobalt blue eyes. His hair was chocolate brown and tousled. All things combined he had a very young and boyish look to him, offset by a contradiction of attractive, near feminine features and a stern, angry, masculine look that controlled every muscle in his face.

I had been staring for a long time, realizing he hadn't said any excuse of a greeting back to me.

"I'm Duo Maxwell." I held out my hand to him but that was futile. He seemed very pissed. His mood reflected my own but at least I had the decency to hide it for our initial encounter.

"Heero Yuy." He simply said, with a monotonous voice.

"Hey, Heero." I said, testing the name on my lips. "Guess we are roommates." I tried a smile but it just fell flat when met with his incessant glare. I looked at the lower bunk in dismay. In terms of space it was no different from the top bunk, but everyone who was once a child knows that the top bunk has an allure that the bottom bunk could not live up to. The fact that there was a selection of dried gum stuck to the slats of the top bunk, in full view of the bottom bed didn't make it any more fair that I was forced to take the bottom bed. So, I decided to play stupid. My father already thought I was anyway. "So, how do we decide who gets the top bunk?"

As expected, he raised an eyebrow at me. And for the first time, a real sentence left his mouth. "I get the top bunk. I got here first."

He had a very strange, very thick accent that I couldn't place. "Well, I don't think that's fair."

The eyebrow just raised higher.

"You see, I just got here, today, I was in Europe, on vacation, so I couldn't have gotten here any sooner. Besides, even though it's fair that the first one here gets first pick, this rule should be agreed upon in advance, otherwise it isn't valid."

Suddenly his eyes looked me up and down, for the first time taking in my handmade coat, my tailored suit and shined shoes. "Who do you think you are?" He questioned.

"No one. Just your roommate. I think we should play fair, that's all."

"And what do you think is fair?" He sat up in bed, he seemed to be amused by me, but hardly showed it other than a mischievous spark in his eyes.

I thought briefly and then suggested: "Arm wrestling." That wasn't exactly fair. I was much bigger than him, certainly I would be much stronger than him. But at that point, it was more about winning to me, rather than actually playing fair.

To my surprise he accepted my challenge and got down from the bed. He had the tiniest, smug smile to his lips. "Like you could beat me." He said, antagonizing me.

We sat at a corner of the desk and locked hands. I guess you could say that was our first handshake.

Nerves got to me when I looked down his arm and noticed the definition of muscle under his gold skin. That was the first moment I thought I had made a mistake by challenging him.

The second moment I thought I had made a mistake was when my shoulder my sore and Heero triumphantly settled back on the top mattress. How was I supposed to know he had been on the swim team and was captain of the water polo team in high school? I probably could have beaten him if I had known that, but his strength had completely caught me off guard and I had been so cocky I was unprepared for it. We agreed that for the following years, as we would be roommates in that very dorm room for as long as our academic career would last, the first one to arrive would get first pick.

I lost two years in a row. Two years during which I went from feeling uncomfortable around Heero and nearly hating him, to considering him my best friend. But we maintained the friendly rivalry, always trying to outdo the other and provoking the other.

We both continued our high school sports at university level. I became part of the varsity basketball team and Heero was recruited by the varsity swim team. Heero never missed one of my games. I never missed one his meets. In the meantime, we learned a lot about each other.

I told Heero about my past with my parents, about my dad pressuring me to study economics and business at Harvard and instead me choosing to study Architecture at an unremarkable university. Heero told me about his life in Japan with his mother and grandmother and how after high school, his American dad offered to pay tuition on the condition that he would come to the USA to study at the university close to his dad's house. In Japan he wouldn't have been able to get higher education due to lack of money. So he succumbed to his desire to learn more, choosing a dual major of Electrical Engineering and Computer Science and Aerospace Science and Engineering. He kept himself busy as a valid excuse to limit his visits to his father down to the single, mandatory Sunday night dinner. I didn't have to worry about that, my father didn't feel particularly motivated to invite me over to dinner. Only at the persistence of my mother did he drag me along on their lavish business trips across the world.

Everyone always commented on what an odd couple of friends we were and maybe at first glance, on the surface, we were. But in spite of our differences, or maybe because of our differences, our friendship worked.

"Hey Heero." I started as I just finished getting dressed and he was just finishing up making his new bed.

"Yeah?"

I kept my back towards him, staring out the window, eye-contact would make it too embarrassing. "I missed you." I confessed against better judgment. We were apart for the full length of all summer vacations ever since we met. But at the thought that tomorrow our final year as fellow students and roommates would start and not knowing where we would end up after that, I felt compelled to finally say it. At the end of the school year, at the start of summer, he would, in all likelihood, return to Japan and unlike other years, he would not be coming back come fall. That thought caused a dull ache in my heart.

He sighed. He was quiet for a while. I wondered what he was thinking. Finally, he replied: "I missed you too."

The we both all of a sudden turned to face each other with devilish grins and we accused simultaneously: "Homo!"

We both laughed.

The next day, possibly our final year as friends began.


	2. Chapter 2

**Thousand Words**

**Two**

"Welcome back. This will be your final year. The last year you will pretend to listen to me and the last year I will pretend that your nonsensical answers during class are acceptable. If you would please be so kind as to open your textbooks to chapter thirteen, we can begin." The professor droned in an utterly monotonous voice.

The sound of two dozen or so books being slammed open was deafening if your ears were hung-over, which mine were. I cringed. I opened my own book carefully, softly, only to rest my forehead onto the open pages. After all, that is why I had chosen to seat myself in the back row, as I did every year, every class.

The classroom was unusually small. Lectures on the more popular courses were held in the large auditoriums in the basement of the complex, philosophy was no such course. I only chose this elective because it was no secret among the student body that the grumpy old professor had no devotion to his profession as an educator and passed everyone who managed to stay conscious during the majority of the lectures and handed in assignments not more than two weeks after the official deadline.

So even though the material didn't exactly catch my interest, the course was right up my alley. I am what one - Heero - would call a "coaster". Sure, I want to graduate, that is a given, I just didn't want to work my ass off to get there if there are alternative routes that call for less studying and more living. Of course by Heero's definition a lot of students are coasters, after all, he was the university's number one overachiever and that didn't just get him extra credits and make him a shoe-in for valedictorian, it apparently also gave him the right to obnoxiously pass judgments with regards to the "underachievers".

He can be a real pain in the butt from time to time.

I sat up straight with the realization I could spend my time much more productively than thinking about Heero. I scanned the classroom for unfamiliar faces - or rather: backs of heads. Sadly, the course didn't exactly offer a great abundance of cute college girls, the classroom was dominated by lazy students, mostly male, and the few exceptions: overzealous, decidedly less than popular students who actually believed philosophy would prove to be a useful course in the future. The kind of students that also voluntarily signed up for Latin and the Algebra honors course.

Where they would sit with Heero.

Damn overachievers, always making the regular guys feel bad about themselves.

I sighed and rested my head back down, it felt heavy, burdened with thoughts, none of which directly related to school. Most students were abuzz with the final-year stress. I, however, felt dull, knowing that the best time of my life was only a year away from coming to an end and I had no faith any future period of time would trump my years in university. Not to say that the past three years have been perfect, there had been some particularly questionable moments, but I didn't think anything could beat the time I've shared with Heero. It was so pathetic that I already missed him before he had even gone away, but knowing that our paths would part, already left me feeling incomplete in expectation of that moment.

Damn it.

If only I could convince Heero to flunk his final year. I would gladly flunk my courses, I was in no hurry. But Heero was a perfectionist and a genius in his chosen branch on top of that. He probably couldn't flunk even if he tried.

They - with they I mean everyone who has ever met us - referred to us as the 'Architect and the Engineer'. Maybe because when you boil our individuality down to such a specific, superficial aspect, one might actually be able to make sense of our friendship. Architect and Engineer was no definitively odd combination, but it couldn't hide the fact that we were. I supposed Carefree and Anal-retentive, Outgoing and Recluse, Coaster and Overachiever, Mischievous Devil and Mister Holier-Than-Thou, or Happy-Go-Lucky and Happy-Go-Fuck-Yourself weren't as catchy.

I chuckled at a memory that suddenly hit me. When we first met, Heero told me to go "fuck myself" in response to my admittedly annoying bantering so often it was the first phrase that he could pronounce completely free of his Japanese accent.

"Ah, mister Maxwell has an amusing thought." The professor spoke up.

I shrank in my seat.

"Since this class is obviously so dull and boring to you all, perhaps mister Maxwell will do you all the favor of sharing his incredibly humorous thought with you. Lord knows he had entertained many people in the past with his brain farts."

And then it just burst out of me, like sometimes happened: "I was thinking "Go fuck yourself"."

The overachievers gasped in shock and turned back to the professor, the others laughed and sat backwards in their seat, grinning at me and giving me the thumbs up.

With a dangerously red face the professor replied indignantly: "I will consider your request. As will you while you write an essay on the purpose of avoiding saying or doing things that you will later come to regret and how this will impact our modern society. At least three thousand words. And so will the rest of the class. I don't care when you hand it in. Just know that if you don't, I will fail you."

The other students groaned and some cursed at me.

"Fine." I started packing my stuff into my bag, assuming he would also throw me out of class.

"Where are you going?"

"Out?"

"Ask yourself this: would you consider being excused from this class ahead of time punishment?"

I grumbled. "No..."

"Didn't think so." The professor said smugly. "Take your seat, mister Maxwell."

With a heavy sigh I sat down. Apparently though he didn't mind his course subject being made fun of, he didn't take personal mockery lightly.

I sat through the duration of the class, paying no more attention after my blunder than before. When the class ended two hours later, everyone got up and as they packed their heavy books into their bags, they all glared at me. 'Sorry' I mouthed to a friend of mine, a fellow coaster.

I had only one more lecture that day, one actually pertaining to my major of choice. As the other students descended the staircase I casually walked over to the private elevator in the South-East corner of the building. Heero was off campus today, an excursion to the airfield, and he had reluctantly given me his honorary student elevator pass.

I got out on level -1 and with my hands in my pockets I strolled to Auditorium C. The class wouldn't be starting for another twenty minutes, but they always kindly opened the doors in advance so the students could steadily make their way inside. I entered at the top of the auditorium and scanned the backs of the seats. I was one of the first to arrive, but not the very first. I spotted a couple of small groups, spread throughout the large space. One particular group caught my attention, a set of five girls sitting next to each other in one of the rows up front.

The outer left girl sat sideways in her seat and caught sight of me in the corner of her eye. She leaned in to say something to the girls and then all of a sudden all five of them turned in their seats and looked at me.

I glared at one in particular and then chose a seat somewhere up high, far away from them. I had hoped she would have the decency to ignore me, but I had no such luck. After she had probably been urged by her friends, I saw Hilde slowly making her way up the steps towards me. A walk of shame and rightfully so.

She stopped at the end of the row of seats where I had taken place, allowing the distance of a couple of chairs between us.

"Hey." She greeted softly, her hands resting on the fold away table.

"Hey." I replied dryly as I pulled out the table in front of me and unceremoniously dumped my bag on the surface with a loud slam.

"Duo, I just-"

"Why are you talking to me, Hilde?" I demanded as I turned to look at her.

She visible squirmed under my glare. A glare I had learned from the best.

"What part of "don't you ever talk to me again" don't you understand?" I continued angrily.

Hilde looked extremely uncomfortable as all present students had turned in their seats at my loud voice and were now watching our exchange.

"I said I was sorry!" She snapped.

"Fuck you, Hilde! Fuck. You." I pointed an accusing finger at her to emphasize my hateful point.

She turned and walked away before I could tell if my words had affected her in any way. I hoped my words hurt, I hoped they stung. She certainly deserved it.

I glared at the four girls who had been looking up at us. When Hilde rejoined them, their heated conversation was obviously about me. Occasionally, one or more would judgingly look up at me. I wondered how Hilde had spun the truth of what had happened between us to make it seem to her friends that she was the victim in all this, when in fact she had been the crazy bitch. It was to be expected that Relena would have a bad influence on her.

More students starting pouring in and I distracted myself by actually paying attention when the lecture on ancient Grecian architecture and it's reflection in modern day structures began.

When the first day came to a blessedly quick end I joined some friends at a cafe across the street and got burned for getting some of them the extra philosophy assignment and their forgiveness cost me two rounds of cheap, watered down beer. A small price to pay.

With the final round, Nash took hold of his beer and climbed on top of his chair. The owner of the cafe said nothing, most of his clients were students and he had long since gotten used to their antics. "To the last year." Nash solemnly started. "To the last year of an endless supply of college tail!"

The ones drunk enough to go along "hoorayed" and then laughter burst out among us when one, sober enough for coherent thought, yelled: "Speak for yourself!"

We ate pizza and later drank coffee to get rid of the edge of our pleasant buzz before returning to campus at around nine o'clock. Nash and I walked shoulder to shoulder to our shared dorm building. He had been loud all evening but had then suddenly turned quiet.

"You okay?" I inquired. "You're not going to throw up, right?"

"Oh please. I barely had anything to drink."

"I know, but the way you worked your way through that entire pizza, it wouldn't surprise me."

Nash laughed shortly and then explained: "I'm just bored with it all. Everyone is so goddamn civil. Last year was way more fun, all the drama and the yelling."

I didn't miss it, being a large part of the drama and a co-contributor to the yelling. "Civil? Didn't you hear I cussed out Hilde, today?"

Nash ignored me and mused: "I'll think of something. I'll make this year memorable."

I playfully punched him. "I'm sure you will." Nash wasn't called "the evil twin" without damn good reason. Everything he did was to distinguish himself from his perfect twenty-minutes-younger-twin-brother Joshua, who had always been favored by their father. Joshua was far away now, at Harvard pre-med, but his influence on Nash was strong. A lot of daddy-issues in Dorm Building B, I had realized a long time ago. But at least it led him to put together excellent raves and smuggle in all the right stuff.

I helped him up the stairs - not drunk my ass - and deposited him in his dorm room before making my way to my own room. The door was unlocked, meaning Heero was home.

"Hey, dude." I said upon my entry.

"Hey... man..." He retorted awkwardly, he never could smoothly reply to the whole dude-routine most of the students got going on. He sat at the desk, his back turned towards me, he was hunched over papers spread out over the surface of the desk, occasionally scribbling something utterly illegible in the corners, not because it was in Japanese, but because his handwriting had gotten fucked up from having to write so much so fast over the past couple of years.

It's safe to say my handwriting was still fine. Perks of the coaster.

"How was your field trip?"

"Excursion." He corrected matter-of-factly.

"What's the difference?" I threw my bag on the top bunk, still basking in my meaningless victory.

"Field trip sounds like something organized by a kindergarten."

I snorted and repeated: "How was your field trip?"

"Ha. Ha."

With a tired sigh I sat down on his bunk bed, slumping my shoulders. Only one day had passed and I was already sick of everything.

Heero turned in his chair and cocked an eyebrow at me. "You know that is my bed, right?"

"Hmhm." With an appreciative groan I lowered myself down on the mattress that had been mine for three years. "Too tired to climb to the top bunk."

"If you want we could still switch." He suggested with a smirk.

"Ha. Ha. Nice try. Top bunk is mine, baby." I muttered, my eyes closed, my body relaxed.

"Then get the hell out of my bed before it starts stinking of you." Heero remarked and then turned back to his work. I heard the squeak of the desk chair as it spun.

I frowned, but kept my eyes closed. "I don't stink!"

"I know. You just have this smell." Heero absentmindedly replied.

I opened my eyes and looked at the back of his head in confusion. "What is that supposed to mean? what is this smell you refer to?"

"I don't know. Just drop it." He sounded irritated.

I sat up with a grin. I loved annoying him, that was a given. I had gotten so good at it I once jokingly put it on my resume. Only to accidentally forget taking it off before going on a job interview at a local high-end store. Needless to say my humor was not appreciate and I didn't get that job.

"No," I started, "I seriously want to know. What smell?"

"It's stupid, just let it go."

"Tell me."

"No."

"Tell me."

"No!"

I grinned, it could take a while, but I knew I could win. After multiple attempts in varying, annoying voices, Heero finally caved, he had no stamina in regards to this.

"Fine! It's..." He paused, maybe in thought, maybe in embarrassment. "You smell like pineapples and a rain storm." He said softly and with repressed anger at me having pestered it out of him. "And I don't want my bed reeking of it!"

I started laughing.

"Go fuck yourself." Heero muttered. "Speaking of which, nice going with professor Mulnick." He said sarcastically, turning around to face me with a challenging expression.

I took my time letting my rumble of laughter die out before I questioned how he knew about that.

"It was all over Facebook and Twitter."

I snorted. "You are not even on Facebook or Twitter or any social media for that matter because you have no need for a social media."

"I didn't say I read it there, I just said it was on there. Someone on the excursion told me."

"Field trip." I teased.

Heero rolled his eyes. "You can be such an asshole, Maxwell." He managed to maintain his death glare for a moment longer but then it cracked and withered in the presence of his smile. "Did you really tell Mulnick to go fuck himself?"

"Technically, no, but by purposefully leaving out the air-quotations - cuz that shit is fucking moronic - it sure did sound like I did."

"I'm baffled you have never gotten expelled."

"Oh please, principle Andrews is a bully. He gets a kick out of shit like this, makes him relive his glory days as the high school jock. Only three kinds of people he hates; nerds, women and queers. And I ain't none of those."

"Really, with that braid you could have fooled me."

I chuckled but wondered, for some reason, it supposedly fooled him into thinking I was which one of the three I mentioned.

Like he had read my mind, he said: "It makes you look like a nerd. Like that kid from Graphic Communications with the gross ponytail that makes his friends call him the Elfenlord of..." he paused and searched his memory but came up with nothing more specific than: "something stupid..."

"Well, you are just lucky you are good in sports and are friends with me, or else, you'd be a nerd too."

Heero didn't deny that, after all, he was all study and no play, something that was trademarked by the stereotypical nerd.

With the conversation having reached an unspectacular end I got up and announced: "I'm going to take a shower and then crash, this day has lasted long enough."

"So you are just going to pretend that you didn't talk to Hilde today?"

I sighed, standing in front of our closet, my hand reaching in for a towel. "It wasn't so much talk as yell."

"So I've heard."

"Seriously, people should mind their own fucking business and keep my personal shit off Facebook!" I exclaimed wildly gesturing around in the small space with my towel, accidentally hitting the lamp, causing it to erratically sway back and forth.

"I'm sorry."

I sighed and could kick myself when I noticed the uncomfortable expression on Heero's face. "You don't have to do that. You always do, but you shouldn't. It's not your fault."

"You don't have to talk about it if you don't want to. I just thought you might want to." Heero explained with a shrug.

I pulled out my desk chair and sat on it backwards, the back support between my legs, my arms resting heavily on top of it. I pensively looked down at the gray carpet. "I don't know, man, it's just all so twisted."

"I know. I'm not implying you should forgive her. If it wasn't socially unacceptable to hit a girl I would have long punched her in the face."

"Me and you both..."

Heero continued: "But you keep getting so worked up about it. You're letting it get to you."

"How could I not?" I raised my voice again, sitting up straight, the subject just always got me so heated. "She seriously fucked with my life for a moment there. She is a manipulative-"

"Yeah, but everything is fine now." He interjected before I could say something nasty.

"Look, I'm trying to forget, but she keeps trying to "mend things" and that just fucks with my head!" I lowered said, defeated head onto the back rest with a groan.

Heero looked at me seriously. "Because you still have feelings for her?"

I chuckled darkly and vaguely shook my head. "The opposite. I never had feelings for her. For any of those girls, but I let them suck all time and energy out of me anyway and let them threaten to fuck up my life. That's what's so warped about it. And you know what, I don't think she ever really loved me either, she just wants to have me because I'm "Duo Maxwell". Which makes her actions all the more psycho. I mean, I get that love might do stupid stuff to your head and decision-making process, but to let greed become you like that... Jesus..."

I looked at him with frustrated eyes. "I'm done with girls." I said determinedly. "I'm just done with them. I mean, aren't you?"

Heero shrugged and looked away. I never got the feeling his own traumatic debacle with Relena in sophomore year bothered him much. He was always so apt at compartmentalizing things and dealing with things on an unimaginably rational level. I wondered where all those repressed feelings went. They didn't just go away, they couldn't, life wasn't that easy, nor fair. I wondered if sometimes, maybe in the quiet of the night, those feelings hurt even his rational, logical heart.

He got me laughing and relieved the tension with a simple comment: "What about the sex though?"

Once I had stopped shaking and caught my breath, I replied: "Yeah, the drama I can do without, the sex I can't." I got up and rolled the chair underneath the desk. I adjusted my grip on the towel and said jovially: "Thank God for casual sex with easy college girls." I walked past him and patted him on his shoulder. "Thanks, man. And, don't study too hard, I don't want to see your brain growing out of your ears, 'cause that ain't something I wanna be looking at every day."

"Just never forget to wear a condom," Heero bantered, "God forbid your genes ever get spread around."

"And... scene. That's a wrap on the "Make love not babies" campaign, people!" I walked off laughing and clapping my hands.

Heero always made me feel better. People accused him of being cold and unemotional, when in reality he is always very attentive and insightful and sensitive to my problems. I hoped I was as good a friend to him as he was to me.

I showered leisurely, grinning when I poured pineapple and orange scented shampoo into my open palm. I briefly wondered where the supposed rainstorm scent came from. When I was done I roughly dried myself off. There was no tackling my mass of hair, so I always toweled most of the water out and then accepted the fact that my clothes or bed sheets would get damp. I wrapped the towel around my waist and gathered my clothes into a bundle in my arms. When I got out, one of the younger guys from our dorm building was waiting just outside the door. The other bathroom was taken too. He didn't comment on the fact that I took longer than the agreed ten minutes, intimidated by the fact that I heavily outranked him in seniority and popularity.

I casually trotted back upstairs to my room. Heero was still bent over his work, this time chewing on the end of his pencil. A quick glance revealed the papers were a collection of schematics for some sort of machine. It made very little sense to me, when it comes down to abstract schematics, my mind went blank when it went beyond a simple, two-dimensional blueprint. My presence seemed to have escaped his awareness.

With a grin I tip-toed towards him and stuck my index finger in my mouth, wetting it. With quick movements I closed the distance and prodded my finger into his ear.

Heero moved away with sharp, startled movements.

It was so third grade but I laughed anyway. "Sorry, thought I saw some brain coming out. Just trying to do you a favor by popping it back in."

Heero glared at me dangerously. He was still the master of the death glare, no matter how well he had taught me by example. "You are such an infant." He pulled his sleeve into his hand and rubbed the shell of his ear dry.

"Like you wouldn't be avenging yourself by giving me a wedgie right now if it wasn't for the fact that I'm not wearing underpants."

"Like I would come anywhere near your underwear." He retorted dryly.

We both chuckled.

He always tried damn well to pretend that he had no appreciation for my pre-adolescent antics, but I knew he secretly thought it was funny, in the end he could never hide that final, soft chuckle that betrayed him. Heero grew up an only child with no friends, I think he liked the fact that after all those years of being secluded, serious and mature well beyond his age, he had someone to goof around with. One day I would get him to stop his efforts at pretending that he didn't.

Heero turned back to his work and in the relative privacy I ditched the towel in my laundry bin and stepped into a pair of boxers and snatched a clean shirt off the top of my stack of clothes in the closet. "Honey, I'm going upstairs. Turn the lights off when you come bed?" I joked as I climbed the narrow ladder to the top bunk.

"Will do. Sweet dreams, darling." Heero replied monotonously to the backdrop of his pencil scribbling furiously on the paper.

I crawled under the sheets. The facts that the lights were still on was no problem for me. I could sleep anywhere, anytime. My thoughts, however, were more intrusive and obstructive and I was awake long enough to hear Heero get changed, flick off the lights and crawl into bed.

He must have noticed I was still awake because a few seconds of listening to him breathe, I heard him say: "It stinks down here."

I laughed hard and during my gasps for oxygen in between I heard his soft chuckling. That was the last thing I remembered.

I woke up hours later at my alarm clock blaring in the early morning. I reached for it on the small shelf on the wall by the headboard and turned it off. After a few slow breaths and a desperate struggle to open my eyes, I rolled over and peeked over the protective barrier surrounding the top bunk, at the lower bed. Heero was already gone, his bed neatly made.

Anal-retentive, I'm telling you.

I didn't know whether he had an early class or if he was out for a run, but I supposed it wasn't really relevant which of the two it was. After a few more moments to allow for motivational speaking, I managed to sit up straight and - for lack of better descriptions - stumble out of bed, down the ladder. It didn't take investigative talent like Sherlock's to deduce I was not a morning person.

I grabbed items of clothing at random, not caring what kind of mismatch of colors and styles I would end up wearing. It was like playing dress-up Russian Roulette. I wouldn't know till well into my cup of coffee, one third into the first class, if I had made a complete ass of myself or not. I did, once, actually go to class wearing striped pyjama bottoms. That was a dark day in the history of Duo.

I packed my bags with the appropriate books and minded not to forget my day planner or I wouldn't have a clue where I was supposed to be at what times, another thing that has occurred to me. On several, separate occasions.

I made an important stop along my way to class: the coffee corner. I had to wait in line but I knew it would be worth it. When it was my turn and a chipper young girl asked me what I wanted I ordered the usual: "I don't care, it just has to be strong and it has to be super sized." I literally had no idea what she gave me every morning. For all I knew she could have slipped some Ritalin in there. Whatever it was, I was not the one who would be asking questions, because it worked and that is all that mattered.

Twenty minutes into a lecture on structural mathematics I noticed I had simply chosen a pair of dark blue, worn jeans and a long sleeved, white shirt to wear. Nothing embarrassing, thankfully, though normally I wore the shirt during basketball practice and not as everyday wear. But it was clean so it was fine.

Not bad, I praised myself.

Being able to focus on my attention took several more sips of the strong coffee. Math was never my strong suit, let alone my passion. It was an unfortunate companion to the occupation of Architect. Also not something I coveted since an early age. I had wanted to study fine arts. The memory still makes me bitter, when I think of the rejection letters from different art academies throughout the United States. I always told myself "when the tenth comes in negative, I give up". That was more easy to say than do when that day came that I stood in the hallway of my father's mansion, holding the tenth kind, but definitive rejection. I wasn't good enough.

With my grades severely lacking because I had always assumed somehow I would get into art school and things like math and English would basically be rendered redundant, my choice of schools was severely limited to say the least. My father had many connections, he assured me that with the right call to the right person, he could get me into a decent school - according to his impossibly high standards-, but I refused his help. I spent all my life struggling to free myself from his bonds, I wasn't about to let him suck me back in - and owe him for the rest of my life and have him tell me with his dying breath that nothing would have ever become of me if it hadn't been for him.

My arts skills made up for my poor math and English and finally a letter came in that didn't open with: "Dear mister D. Maxwell, thank you for your application and apparent interest in our program. Unfortunately..."

God, I hated that "unfortunately".

The problem now, of course, is that I suck at math. But I wasn't worried. I had made it this far and I will make it till the very end. Thanks to Heero. That guy could sneeze catch complicated math equations in a tissue.

I went through the motions of the day, going from class to class, saying hello to friends I hadn't seen since before the summer break and avoiding any contact with Hilde, Relena or any of their affiliates.

For lunch I picked up three sandwiches at the University Cafeteria and casually strolled towards the University Library, a separate building a short walk to the East. The sign on the front door was that of a drink and a sandwich with a red circle around it and red stripe straight through it, but I whistled as I opened the door and stepped inside with my pleasantly smelling food.

I saluted the older woman at the front desk, who ignored the young student she had previously been helping to greet me.

"Duo, what do you got today?" She asked with a wink.

With a grin I walked up to her and opened the brown paper bag in which the cafeteria lady had wrapped my hot sandwiches. "Ah, it's a veritable trip around the world today. I've got Mexican Chicken..."

"Ooh, nice and spicy." she commented.

"Italian Pork..." I continued.

"Hn! that comes with that delicious sauce!"

"And Australian Crab Melt." I finished and looked up at her expectantly. "Do I even have to ask?" I teased with a wink.

She chuckled. "Australian Crab."

I was already in the process of handing it to her.

She accepted the wrapped sandwich and peeled it open for a quick sniff. "Hmm, you're a doll, Duo."

"I aim to please." I said with a grin and headed further into the library.

"Say hi to Heero for me!"

I only waved in response as I rounded a corner and maneuvered my way through the tall stacks of thick books. It was relatively quiet in the library, most of the tables amidst the shelves were unoccupied. It was lunch hour, from noon to one PM there were no lectures or classes. It was a luxury the professors had negotiated for their own benefit and it suited me just fine too. The only downside was that the cafeteria became impossibly crowded, but obviously Heero and I had found ourselves a new place to hang, seeing as the usually so strict and stubborn librarian was practically in love with the two of us.

I made my way all the way to the back where there were separate study rooms. Small rooms with tables that seated four to six students. The study rooms could be reserved in advance at the front desk, but considering they weren't really popular, the librarian gladly had one on permanent reserve for Heero and I in exchange for a daily lunch. Lord knows the guy made quite some hours in this building seeing as our desk in our dorm room was two small to fit an Architect and an Engineer.

I looked through the window by the door of the study room located furthest in the back, in a quiet corner of the building where no one ever passed by. I saw Heero standing over the table, his papers taking up nearly the entire surface. I knocked on the window to announce my presence and held up the brown bag when he looked at me.

From the look on his face it seemed like I was most welcome.

I pushed the door open and stepped inside.

His eyes fixated on the bag. "What do you have?"

I chuckled. "Jesus Heero, nice to see you too."

"I didn't have breakfast." He explained with a pout that was only in my imagination - I think.

I sighed. "I told you not to do that. With all that running around you do, both literally and figuratively, you gotta take care of yourself."

"Yes, mother." He rolled his eyes at me.

"Mexican or Italian?" I asked, holding up both sandwiches.

"Mexican." He said decisively.

"You are both so predictable." I threw him his sandwich of choice. "She says "Hi" by the way."

"She always does." He unwrapped the sandwich from it's cellophane and took a big bite. "Ran into coach Harford today, said you missed practice yesterday."

I pulled out a chair across the from him and sat down, propping my feet up on the edge of the table, casually crossed at the ankle. I took a bite from my own lunch before I explained: "You know it's my personal tradition to miss first practice of the year. Everyone knows it. So does he."

Heero nodded, sitting down himself, much like me, only he had the decency to use a chair for his feet, not the table. "Yeah and apparently this year everyone took your lead. No one showed up."

I laughed abruptly.

"He didn't think it was funny." Heero commented, adjusting a piece of chicken back between the two halves of the bread before eating on.

"He finds nothing funny." I grumbled. "He's a cranky old man."

Heero looked up at me. "He's not that old."

"Oh come on! He is like... forty!"

"That's not old."

"Well, he sure makes it seem old." Eager to end this conversation regarding my less-than-favorite coach I reached out and spun one of the papers around to look at it right side up. "What's all this?" I studied the intricate schematics with very little understanding.

"Just some construction schematics of different aircrafts we have to study. We have to design our own aerospace machine this course." He said unenthusiastically, looking at the schematics with tired eyes.

Looking at him I'd almost forget it was only the second day back in class. Those overachievers really overexert themselves. Of course Heero didn't have much of a summer break, working to support his sick grandmother.

I jumped when Heero suddenly raised his voice at me:

"Don't get your greasy paw prints all over them!"

I immediately put my hands up in the air in surrender, but smirked at him mischievously.

"So what are you going to do about coach Harford?" Heero questioned, knowing it would annoy me.

I childishly stuck my tongue out at him. "Well, since no one showed up yesterday, there was no practice, so technically, today's practice is first practice. And you know I don't go to first practice."

He crumpled up the cellophane as he finished his lunch. "I thought you liked basketball." He threw the ball of cellophane across the room, to the open trash bin in the corner, but he was slightly short. The ball hit the rim, bounced and ended up on the carpet. He scrunched up his face in displeasure.

"I do." I demonstratively balled up the cellophane from my own sandwich and expertly threw it dead center into the bin, even though I sat just as far away from it as Heero. "I just don't like basketball with him. It used to be game, he has made it-"

"A sport?" Heero interjected with a raised eyebrow.

"No, smartass and clean up after yourself." As Heero stood up to grab the cellophane and put it in the trash. I finished: "He made it a chore. Something not-fun you absolutely have to do because there is no one else to do it and you'll get punished if you don't. Give me coach Zucherman everyday."

"Now he was old."

"He was wise and experienced." I defended.

"The man walked with a crutch, Duo!" Heero argued with a smile.

"Fine, fine. So he was old. And he was right to retire. But I just hate Harford."

"Maybe because it sounds like Harvard?"

"No."

"Or because he adores your father as opposed to Zucherman who thought he was the scum of the earth?"

I smiled darkly. "I knew I liked that guy for a good reason."

Heero sighed and leaned back over his papers. "Just go to practice, Duo. Don't let this guy ruin it for you. And don't let Hilde ruin your final year either."

At that I looked at him for a while, but he never looked up to meet my gaze, too focused on his work.

With a long sigh I got up out of my seat and flung my bag over my shoulder. "Wanna share dinner tonight? I got this oven lasagna but it's too much for one person."

"Sure. I'll get something for tomorrow."

"You don't have to." I assured him. With only one major to tend to and no other extracurricular activities beyond basketball practice, I had the time for a job. My dad paid my tuition, but other than that the arrangement was that I had to take care of everything else by myself. Of course he had hoped it would blow up in my face and I would have to come crawling back home and beg him for help, but I actually got a sweet deal working at the on campus bar as a bartender, it didn't pay much, but college girls, as I quickly discovered, were generous tippers.

Heero on the other hand, with two majors, multiple electives for extra credit, the honors program, swim practice, his function as vice president in the student government and a controlling dad who kept close tabs on him and his grades, didn't have enough hours in a week left to be a suitable candidate for even a part-time job. In exchange for the mandatory Sunday night dinners and following, ongoing chess game, his father gave him a modest monthly allowance.

"I want to. Might as well make use of this short fucking leash my dad's got me on." His voice turned venomous whenever he referred to his father.

"Alright. But not that vegetarian dish that you cooked up last time, it was like eating brain with a side of snot."

"It was broccoli and tofu with cheese sauce." He defended his cooking skills.

"If you say so. Wait for me after practice, okay?"

He nodded.

"Bye!"

He didn't respond, he had already lost himself in his work.

The remainder of the day went by quickly with an interesting workshop and an entertaining lecture by an easy-going visiting professor. Though he actually had us laughing with his intermissions of one-liners, I snuck out fifteen minutes before the end of the two hour lecture, allowing me enough time to jog back to my dorm and get my things for practice and make it to the gym on time.

I opened the door to the guys locker rooms, the smell that his me was one I never managed to describe more eloquently than the stench of men. Left on their own accord - without female supervision - we are pigs and there is that distinct scent that comes with it when you concentrate several of us into a poorly ventilated space.

"Hey guys!"

My teammates greeted me in unison.

I took my seat on the narrow bench in front of my locker. Nash, our team's small forward, was beside me, only in his underwear, trying to untangle the shoelaces of his left sneaker. Whilst I undressed myself, I commented, my voice muffled through the fabric of my shirt as I pulled it over my head: "So none of you guys showed up yesterday huh?"

"Just following our captain's lead." Owen Banes' heavy voice sounded.

"Obie!" I pulled my head out of my shirt and grinned at him. "How was Vegas, man?" We shook hands and leaned in to bump our shoulders together.

"A lot of saying "No" to strippers and hookers."

I let out a hardy laugh. "Yeah, Jen locked that shit down! She owns that dick now."

The guys surrounding us, overhearing our conversation, made random catcalls.

Obie gave me a weak push and boasted: "She don't own it, she addicted to it."

More laughter echoed between the apple red lockers.

"Shut up!" Someone barked, abruptly ending the merit.

We turned to coach Harford, standing in the doorway of his office, glaring at us. His feet at shoulders width, his hands on his hips, his stomach sucked in and his chest puffed forward. His impeccable hair was immobile even as he stood under the air-conditioning fan.

"Summer is over." He said, raising his voice and punctuating like a drill sergeant. "Get dressed and meet me out on the tracks. We are going to get you girls into shape." With stomping footsteps he exited the locker room.

We all groaned in dismay, knowing we would be brutally punished for our rebellious absence the day before. I stepped in my navy training pants and pulled a short sleeved T-shirt over my head. It was humid outside and I knew coach would make sure we wouldn't get chilly.

We jogged out to the tracks together, where the coach was waiting for us. The track looped around the football field. After three years of being on the basketball team, two years of being captain, I had acquired an intimate knowledge of that track.

Even though we patiently and quietly stood waiting in front of him, he felt the need to sharply blow his whistle anyway, before he announced: "Summer break makes players go soft. The first game of the competition is only three weeks away. Three weeks to train you to be strong again, strong as individuals and strong as a team. Since you collectively decided you could afford to miss the first practice, we have some catching up to do. Captain?"

"Yes, coach?" I suppressed the urge to salute and stand at attention, he would not be appreciative of any physical comedy at the moment, if ever.

"How long did our last competitive game last?"

I thought back to our final game. It was the game we went deep into overtime after a tie that neither team could solve swiftly. "Two hours and forty minutes, sir, including time-outs-"

"And did we win?" He interrupted, apparently not interested in the details.

I glowered. "No, sir."

"No." He repeated. "No. Because neither one of you has the endurance to make it that long. You were like turtles moving back and forth on the court!"

"With all due respect sir," I argued sarcastically, "the other team wasn't any faster."

"And yet they scored... and got to compete in the State Championship!" He shook his head. "Captain, I keep forgetting, how long did that game last?"

"Two hours and forty minutes, sir." I repeated.

"Right." He produced a stopwatch out of his pocket. "You will be running around this track for the next two hours and forty minutes."

My eyes went wide. "Sir," I objected. "practice isn't even supposed to last longer than two hours."

He smirked at me smugly. "Well like I said, Captain, we have some catching up to do." He pressed start on the stopwatch. "Go!"

Reluctantly, we started to jog down the track.

Even though I paced myself my energy was quickly running out, my breathing became labored even through my wide open mouth and the muscles in my legs started to burn. Each time I passed the starting point I glared at the coach who was chatting up some of the blond cheerleaders - one of whom was Relena - who were also supposed to have practice. For some reason the girls were all really smitten with him. I didn't get it.

I lost count on how many times I went around the track, my mind was too preoccupied damning Harford to hell. The training was ridiculous and unfair. Even though the game had, technically, lasted two hours and forty minutes, actual game time excluding time-outs, breaks and switches was shorter than that. But there was no arguing with him. He had big shoes to fill and he was desperate to fill them. Coach Zucherman was the only coach in the history of the university to have a basketball team win state championship. Now, Harford had his eyes set on that prize and to wipe Zucherman off the records.

My tempo had slowed considerably but as long as coach didn't comment on it I wasn't motivated to pick it up and as the track looped away from him I slowed even further to allow myself a moment to revitalize, if possible.

I tried blowing my bangs out of my face but they were plastered to my forehead with sweat. When I reached up and wiped them out of my eyes I noticed Heero sitting on the front row of the bleachers watching the slaves run around the track. His eyes found me and I jogged up to him.

"Hey." It was barely a word, I was desperately out of breath. I stopped and leaned against the railing, stretching out my calves, pretending to suffer from a cramp should I draw coach's attention.

"I thought you'd be done by now." He demonstratively looked at his watch.

"What time is it?" I wiped the sweat off my brow and chin.

"Six."

I took a deep breath and blew it out slowly. My heart pounded furiously. "Shit man, I'm sorry. I'm gonna be here for another forty minutes. You go ahead and tackle that lasagna."

"Captain!" Harford bellowed from across the field.

"One sec coach! Cramps!" I shouted back.

"No, it's fine. I'll wait." Heero said, already pulling his laptop out of his bag and opening it up in his lap.

"You sure? You don't have to."

"No, it's fine." He flashed me a grin. "I will gladly watch you suffer for another forty minutes."

"Captain!"

"Alright. Gotta go." I started running again. As soon as I did, I wish I wouldn't have to. I was done, I was exhausted. I started to doubt whether or not the fun of the game and hanging out with the guys was still worth it. Just like it had become apparent to me that girls are not worth the drama. Everything was becoming so tiring and exhausting, the fun had been sucked out of it.

Basketball used to be fun, but Harford ruined it for me. He hated my guts, he would surely bench me for the duration of the year if he wasn't afraid of mutiny by the rest of the team.

Relationships used to be fun too. Hilde was the one who ruined that for me.

All people in my life ended up disappointing me, by not caring, by using me, by betraying my trust...

I looked over my shoulder, back at Heero. He was the only exception.

I didn't know whether that was wonderful or incredibly pathetic. I just knew that I didn't have the energy or strength of heart left within me to invest in another relationship, to make myself vulnerable like that again, vulnerable to being fucked with and for what? What did I get in return? All those girls, all that time and energy invested, all that drama and I still didn't know love. Every time I thought I did, I ended up being proven wrong. I was tired of being proven wrong.

There, on the track, drenched in sweat, out of breath, in a moment of clarity - or heart failure and lack of oxygen to the brain - I decided I was done with love. Done with waiting for it, done with searching for it, done with expecting it from others, done with giving it to others. I was going to hold myself to my proclamation from last night: I am done with girls. No relationships this year; no attempts that are doomed to fail. Casual sex only. I hadn't exactly figured out how that would work considering all my previous casual sex-dates ended up being my girlfriends for at least two weeks - just enough time to have me come to regret it - but I would figure it out.

My decision was enforced by the euphoria I felt when the coach blew his whistle and announced it was time to hit the showers. I shared a brief look with Heero through which we communicated that he would wait for me there and then I hurried back to the locker rooms.

The guys were too drained to mess around. Not a single one of us got slapped with a wet towel that day, we didn't even make any penis-jokes when we all stood under the shower.

It was weird.

I took longer than the other guys because I simply couldn't neglect washing my hair after sweating so profusely. I did my best to towel dry it afterwards but my braid ended up moist along my spine anyway. When I stepped outside where the temperature was cooling, it was actually kind of nice. I walked right across the field, in a beeline towards Heero.

He caught me approaching from the corner of his eye and shut off his laptop and tucked it into his bag.

"Get any work done?" I inquired as we headed towards our dorm building.

"Some. Mostly just answered a couple of emails." He said with a shrug.

"Anything from your mom?"

He shook his head. "Just school. And my dad. To let me know he accidentally knocked over the chess board, so we have to start over next time."

I snorted, recalling Heero telling me about a similar email not all that long ago. "So I'm guessing you were winning?"

"Always am. Never actually did though. Sons of poor losers can't ever be winners."

"That must piss you off." I pushed the door to our building open and we stepped inside and headed for the kitchen. We were the only ones there, the other guys had either already eaten, or had gone out to eat, which was a common occurrence.

"Not really. One more year and then I will never see him again." Heero said absentmindedly, sitting down at the small table crammed into the kitchen in a brightly lit corner. "He knows it too."

My heart suddenly stung as I was reminded that in a year time, I might never see Heero again either. I pulled the refrigerator door open and got out the lasagna. I popped it into the oven and twisted the dial to the appropriate time before seating myself across from Heero.

"Will you go out with me Friday?" I asked several long minutes into complete silence.

Heero gave me a baffled look.

"Not like that, homo!" I kicked his shin, under the table. "I need my wingman! We've gotta sniff us out some ass in a club or something."

Heero quietly commented, still confused about the concept: "I didn't think you'd be ready to start dating so soon."

"I'm not going to date. I'm gonna meet a hot girl. Ask her for her name. Talk her up. Have a little bada-bing-bada-boom. And then I am going to forget her name. I told you, casual sex."

He raised his eyebrows at me. "Really?"

"Yeah, so what?"

"Well, to be honest I didn't think you were being serious." He looked as if he was afraid he was about to offend me or something.

"Why?"

He bit his lip, looking very uncomfortable now.

Jesus, what is it? My look was demanding and effective.

"You are just..." He paused briefly and then firmed his resolve. He looked up at me and said: "You are a girlfriend kind of guy."

I snorted and leaned back in my seat. "What is that supposed to mean?"

"It means you always have a girlfriend. You don't do single and you don't do casual sex. Not successfully at least."

"Well, my relationships also aren't exactly successful." I argued. I didn't know why it bothered me that he would think of me as a "girlfriend guy", but my ego did feel dented and I sort of felt like my masculinity was being attacked, like he thought it impossible for me to be the raw, sexual "do em and leave em" guy. I felt like he mocked me, even though I was sure he didn't.

"I just don't see it working. Look at your track record. You've never been able to a shake a girl, not after at least two weeks to allow her time to learn you are actually quite an asshole." He finished with a smirk.

"Thank you, best friend." I replied sarcastically.

He shrugged. "All I'm saying is, for some inexplicable reason, girls have to have you for more than one night. Apparently you are the master of trickery and deceit."

"Okay, okay, enough with the sarcasm on the offensive already."

"You are just not all that charming in real life." He continued dryly, his lips twitching, struggling with the smile that threatened.

"I said shut it!" I ordered, pointing my finger at him, but I released a chuckle anyway. I was saved by the bell, or rather, the ding of the oven. I got up and got the dish out of the oven, placing it on the table and then moving to add two plates, two sets of cutlery and two cans of ice cold cola. "All day I slave for you in this kitchen and this is what I get?" I muttered jokingly. "Who are you to judge me anyway?" I started up again once I sat down. "You, the guy who chases girls off. Seriously, I have never seen women run that fast, especially in those heels." I dug into the lasagna, wincing as my wrist accidentally touched the hot oven dish.

"At least I can have sex without immediately losing the key to the ball and chain." He said with a mouthful.

I frowned, I had never known that. Though silly of me - in hindsight - it had never occurred to me that Heero was having sex. He never had a girlfriend and never went out, so I always assumed the poor guy took care of business all by himself. It was rather shocking to know the truth couldn't be more different. I mean, on one hand, there was an obvious logic to it. Heero was very handsome, athletic and smart - to a fault. But every thing else, the lack of interest in any social contact beyond our own friendship, the obsession with school, the dark, dangerous brood he always sported walking down the halls, all seemed to be so insurmountable. Yet, as he told me it was so, I discovered I didn't doubt the truth of his words for even a second.

I leaned in curiously: "Where do you even meet girls?"

"The library." He stated matter-of-factly, bringing another large forkful to his lips.

"You're kidding... But where do you...?" My eyes went wide and then I scrunched my face up in disgust. "Oh no, don't tell me... not in the study room!" I hissed. "Dude, we eat there!"

"And in the restrooms. The sex I mean, not the eating." He continued to eat like this conversation wasn't the weirdest we had ever had.

I shook my head and worked in a couple of big forkfuls before I said with a grin: "You cheap whore. Nice going!"

He let out a single burst of laughter.

"Wow." I appreciated, sitting back in my chair, a little dazed. "I seriously need to study at the library more often."

"It's not going to happen." He popped his can of cola open and took several big gulps before he elaborated: "I'm telling you, girls do not want to have one night stand with you. They will just use sex to get to you and once you give in to that, they own you. And you let them because more is exactly what you are looking for too. Somehow a relationship always just spontaneously appears, until they find out you are a dick, of course." He added.

"Zip it, mister Charismatic." I grinned smugly. "I accept your challenge."

He quirked an eyebrow at me.

"I will prove to you that I can have casual sex. Wham, bam, thank you ma'am." I smacked the table to punctuate my words. "Because I am done with relationships. I am sick and tired of those girls and their drama and their brainwashing canoodling- don't!" I stopped him as I saw the corner of his mouth twitch with the beginning of a smirk and a sarcastic remark, "You better watch out, Yuy, because from now on you are going to have some competition." I finished my cola and crushed the can between my palm and the table.

Heero looked dutifully unimpressed. "Ooh, manly..." He dead-panned. "That totally makes up for the "canoodling" thing."

Even though our conversation had been riddled with jokes, I was being serious. It would be my last year, at university and with Heero. Like Nash, I just wanted to make it memorable, only in a good way. To make all the drama from the previous year hopefully less memorable. On top of that, the opportunity to prove Heero wrong, made the objective all the more interesting to me.


	3. Chapter 3

**Thousand Words**

**Three**

Damn it.

I hated it when Heero was right.

How did he even do that? How did he fathom predictions of future events from the mathematical algorithm to which his brain function always seemed to be limited? He knows you too well, I accused myself, pausing briefly to find deeper meaning to that. But I was not really a "deep" kind of guy, I got told so every week in Philosophy. He knows you so well, my train of thought sped up again, that he has you down to a formula of constants and variables and he does the math - that makes as little sense to me as all math does - in his head. I imagined there being some sort of poof, like those old-fashioned magic shows and then there it was. There it just was: this model of me.

He did not use to be able to do this, he was as comfortably clueless of my life and its proceedings as he was uncomfortably disinterested in it. In the confines of our living arrangement he became too familiar with my behavior over the past few years as our friendship evolved. Heero is an observer, that I could tell from the start. He doesn't interact much, he observed and he mapped out everything in his head. That is why, when I first started approaching him with more amicable intentions, he startled me with a near intimate knowledge of my being. Whereas I relied on hearsay that only provided me with one of his two majors.

He knew me. He knew the real me. Paradoxically, it was both unsettling and reassuring. Unsettling to know that there is someone who knows me better than I know myself. Reassuring, as apparently, one could know all about me and still care for me.

Regardless of either of those feelings, I still hated it when he was right. He could just be so damn smug about it! I was already dreading the smugness.

"Do you need help?" the kind, delicate voice to my left inquired.

I stopped the unconscious tapping of my pen on my notebook which must have been irritating the shit out of the people surrounding us. I looked up from my squiggly notes, almost surprised, even though I couldn't have possibly forgotten she was sitting right next to me. That warm, small hand of hers, resting innocently on my thigh was difficult to ignore as testosterone had immediately sent my body into high alert. I stared at her wordlessly long enough to make her eyebrow go up, then I remembered: words! "No, I'm fine," I stammered in a decidedly un-smooth way.

"You know," she stated, purposefully leaning in, putting more weight on that hand, "for someone who asked me tutor him, you certainly don't request much tutoring..."

I didn't know why or how but she managed to make her tone shamelessly suggestive. "It's just the chapter," I lied, "it's not as difficult as the previous one." If it had been Heero's eyes I was staring into, I would have seen them narrowing before he called me out on it. "Bullshit," he would say and then he would explain the equation for me again. I couldn't tell her the truth. I couldn't tell her that I always turned to Heero for help with math and that I never intended to change that, even though I replied to her offer on the bulletin board to tutor math for the Architecture majors in the library - one on one.

Recruiting her help had just been an excuse, one that made Heero chuckle when I confessed to him. He was the one who told me the library was a great place to meet up with girls, so of course I had to punch him for laughing at me.

I knew her by name and by face. Meaning when I saw her name on that pamphlet on the bulletin board two weeks ago, I remembered her attractive face from some lectures we had shared over the past course and it seemed as good a chance as any to turn my love life into something a little more sleazy, but at the same time, a little less risky.

Her reply to my email had come quick, even though the pamphlet said a reaction might take a few days. When we met at the agreed time, at the entry of the library, she had looked even more amazing than I remembered. Purposefully. She wore more make-up than I remember her wearing on previous occasions, she had her hair loose and flowing - even though she usually wore it up in a high ponytail - and her skirt had been so short I contemplated if it would even still qualify as a skirt, as opposed to an oversized, denim belt.

When she had walked through those doors, flipping her hair and smiling with her red lips as she spotted me, I was pretty confidant I had done a good job and even inwardly praised myself. Just write that up to: boys will be boys. And boys will be horny.

In anticipation of my success I had told Heero that morning to make himself scarce and leave the private study room in the back to me. That is where I guided her to and I even pulled out her chair as we went to sit down. She complimented me on being such a gentleman and I just thought: if you knew of the un-gentlemanly thoughts I was having right now...

None of those thoughts became a reality. Nothing happened, not of the sort anyway. She answered my math-related questions and sometimes retorted with a personal question as her face sported a sexy smirk. During the two hours of tutoring she touched me a lot, on my arm and on my shoulder and at one point she even took hold of my braid as it was the subject of one of her questions. As time crept by, I started to become distracted, drifting off in my mind and wondering what it was Heero did to turn this flirtatious behavior into outrageous sexual activity atop our textbooks. Of course those thoughts were utterly disruptive to my potential sexual prowess as from then on I was haunted by visions and started to worry if the very chair I sat in had been christened by Heero.

She was not deterred by my lack of focus. To regain my attention, she briefly turned up the heat, turning her body in a way that made her prominent breasts brush against my exposed arm. It didn't get any dirtier than that but at least it eased the awkward thoughts of my best friend.

I was about to end the session by telling her I did not need her tot tutor me again - after all, I didn't need her, Heero was my tutor - but she beat me with words of her own.

"Do you want to go out tonight?"

"Sure." There was literally no thought-process that preceded that response. Even if there had been, I doubted I would have seen the signs Heero pointed out to me in hindsight.

Damn he is good.

Damn it.

We went out that night, to a club she suggested and I had never been to. Her dress covered her up more than the skirt had, but it had been so tight it left nothing to the imagination. As in, the whole time we were outside, walking to and from her car, I could not stop thinking: She is obviously cold. In the club we gyrated our hips together, as that substituted dancing and the only form of motion that was observed in the other patrons. When we left she invited me over to her dorm room. Slightly drunk, I did manage to ask about her roommate. With a grin she informed me she had asked her to have a sleepover at a friend's dorm.

"Oh." Was my deeply profound response. Well, who had the clarity of mind to quote Shakespeare in a moment like that anyway? Besides, romance was not what I was after and I thought that had been pretty clear to her as well.

The sex was good. Satisfying. Though nothing spectacular and of course we could not escape those awkward moments when one of us would bump something into the top bunk as we struggled to find a pleasurable position on the lower bunk. She was loud and high-pitched, a little annoying but not enough so to bother me. Once she buried her hands in my hair but her fingers got tangled and when she pulled away she roughly pulled some hairs out, which had caused me to pause. But I got right back on that horse - oh god, she must never know I ever compared her to a horse - and finished us both off nicely. Just... satisfying... Good enough.

Upon my arrival back at my room, Heero turned out not to be awake to witness my gloat, but I was determined to have him face the full brunt of it the next day over lunch.

Of course by lunch, the gloat was all his.

Damn him.

"Told you so." Was the very first thing he said to me, though he had strategically waited for me to hand him his sandwich before he said anything.

Maxxie, as of then, was my girlfriend. Apparently. It said so on Facebook the next morning and that was the modern equivalent of it being written in stone. "Had an amazing night with Duo Maxwell. He is such a gentleman by day, but in the moonlight such a sexy beast!" Followed by a smiley-face that I had to explain to Heero.

The skirts returned to an appropriate length and I couldn't tell anymore with nothing but a single glance if she was cold or not. There was little physical satisfaction involved in the relationship, only her constant teasing, alleviated on no more than one occasion when I - completely embarrassed - accepted a hand-job from her which felt like the physical examination the coach had all his varsity players undergo regularly. Seriously. Other than that, she expressed desire to "hold off", seeing as we had done it on our first date - apparently that had been a date - and she didn't want to come off as slutty.

So two weeks later I was sitting with her in the library as she still tutored me and was still my girlfriend.

I had suggested moving our tutor sessions out into the open space of the library as opposed to the private study rooms, which was my attempt to create distance; the build-up to letting her down easy. I should have broken up with her sooner, as soon as I realized her idea of what had happened that night differed greatly from mine. But I couldn't do it. I felt sad for her and I felt that I, at least, owed her the time to see if she was the exception, the one that could make me feel, could make me love. Then, as the days went by, she told me how she had always liked me from afar but never quite dared to approach me because of my intense relationship with Hilde. She said she was grateful we had been given a chance anyway and my heart ached as she expressed her insecurity about sleeping with me "on the first date". That just made it even harder to break up with her, even as I became extensively aware of the fact that she was not "the one" and that my relationship with her was never supposed to be more than that one night.

Again I wondered how Heero handled himself in these situations. Surely this must have overcome him too at some point?

I looked at her, at her pretty face. The only flaw I could discover was that her front teeth were slightly crooked. Actually, it looked quite adorable, I recognized. Still, I felt nothing.

"You've been so distracted," she said sympathetically, moving her hand from my thigh to my cheek, caressing me softly.

"It's nothing."

"You can talk to me."

"I really don't want to," I blurted.

Her hand disappeared. "What is that supposed to mean?" She demanded to know.

"It's nothing. Let's just study for now and talk later, okay? We're still on for coffee after this, right?"

She lowered her gaze back to the textbook. "Right."

I sat up straight when I noticed a familiar, tense figure walking by. "Heero!" I called out, turning in my seat and waving my hand so he could spot me.

He approached us with his hands tightly gripping the strap of his heavy shoulder bag. He didn't say anything. He didn't even look at Maxxie.

"What are you doing here so late?"

My girlfriend was visibly displeased as I showed more interest in Heero than in her. She focused her upset gaze on the pages of her notebook but she didn't seem to be reading. With the long fingernail of her index finger she worked on poking a hole through the paper, in the corner.

Yikes. See, that's what I meant, relationship trouble. For some reason it was always lurking and I couldn't seem to escape it.

"I needed more workspace," Heero replied. He was never very talkative in the presence of others.

Oh yeah, he wasn't the only observant one.

Maxxie suddenly turned around in her seat, her ponytail whipping around her face, and she offered Heero an intensively bright smile.

Heero frowned at her and even slightly reeled his head back, surprised to have her looking at him as she had made it no secret these past two weeks that she did not appreciate his presence very much during our "alone time".

"Heero, do want to go get coffee with us later? Duo and I are going to the coffee house after this, you should come with us," Maxxie suggested.

"I'm busy," was Heero's quick and dry report. "Besides, you should probably be alone with your boyfriend." He looked at me meaningfully.

"Right." She turned back in her seat.

"Bye. Good luck." He was not referring to the math. I had told him I would take her out for coffee and then break the news to her that it was over.

Once Heero had walked away I turned to Maxxie, her anger clear, but confusing. "Something wrong?"

"You're going to break up with me, aren't you?" she asked out of the blue, refusing to look me in the eyes.

"Why would you say that?" I questioned, just because it seemed so cruel to flat out tell her that was true.

"Because it's what you do!"

Her loud voice attracted the curious attention of the people surrounding us, making me very self-aware and uncomfortable.

"It's what you do with all your girlfriends! You take them to the exact same coffee house and you dump them! The only one you have been able to stand longer than two weeks is Hilde!" She chuckled bitterly, her hands moving to gather her belongings into her bag and added: "And Heero!"

"What the fuck is that supposed to mean?" I was suddenly offended, to an inexplicable degree.

"Oh please, you two are like this- this thing! You're Siamese twins connected at the hip, only- not! I can only wonder who is the bad influence on whom."

"Young lady," the evening supervisor started as he approached us with his slow, humorous waddle, "you have to quiet down, people are trying to study."

"He's a prick!" she informed him at the top of her lungs.

He gave me a look but I didn't take it to heart. After all, what the fuck does he know?

"If he's such a prick then let's just go outside and get you some fresh air," he tried calmly and guided her with a hand on her shoulder.

She shook off his hand and stormed away, shouting: "Leave me alone! All men are pricks!"

The obese supervisor turned and put his hands on his broad hips. "You should learn to respect women, young man."

I rolled my eyes. "Thanks, doctor Phil." I turned away and rubbed my temples. That did not go as planned, I thought; usually I was better at the letting-her-off-easy-break-up than that. I supposed it was inevitable for my reputation to precede me. She was right, it didn't take a quiet genius like Heero to see that after a maximum of two weeks I would give up. I guessed I also hadn't been very subtle, suggesting that we should go to that coffee house. I only ever went to that coffee house to break up with girls, a strategic move I knew now I should have changed up occasionally. I frowned to myself as I packed my books into my bags. I invited her to the coffee house that morning when she sat down next to me in the auditorium. She had known all day that I was going to break up with her? Maybe she had hoped she could have changed my mind, she had been quiet during the lecture, but particularly kind and clingy for the duration of the day. Damn, I am a prick, I concluded, suddenly aware of the other students in the library still looking at me.

With my head bowed, heavy with the guilt I always felt after ending it with a girl, I walked away. Instead of heading to the exit, I fled to the nearest sanctuary, the secluded study room in the back. I paused in front of the window, looking at Heero as he leaned over the table, studying diagrams with an intense, focused glare. I shook my head, wondering, how can he be so good at the one night stand thing? He is so... Heero.

"Hey, bro," I greeted, closing the door behind me.

"Hey... dog," he answered awkwardly with an increasing frown.

"It's over between me and Maxxie. She beat me to it." I threw my bag onto the table and heavily sagged down into the seat across from Heero.

"So I heard," was his absentminded retort.

"Yeah, she was kind of loud. Apparently she had known since this morning that I was breaking up with her tonight."

"Well," he started, his eyes still intently focused on the papers, "you are not a difficult guy to read. Throw lazy routines into the mix and you are as predictable as..." His pause dragged on uncomfortably long and then suddenly there was a sigh and he lowered himself back into his seat, his eyes squeezed shut, his fingers rubbing his temples. "I'm too tired to come up with witty comparisons."

I chuckled. "Do you want some coffee?"

He looked at me mischievously, the beginnings of a grin twitching in the left corner of his mouth. "Why? Are you going to break up with me?"

I laughed abruptly. "Not too tired for sarcasm, I see."

He stretched his arms out and leaned his head back, his eyes closed. "Hm. Never."

I sighed, changing the subject back to the morose. "I feel sorry for Maxxie. She is a really nice girl. I should like her, you know? I should have liked many of the girls I dated, but I didn't, not like that anyway. There must be something wrong with me."

I was hoping Heero would assure me that there was nothing wrong with me, but as we had previously established, he was never too tired for sarcasm, so his reaction was a low, agreeable: "Must be."

"Thank you, best friend." Sarcasm was a two-way street. I got up and moved to a chair closer to his, leaning in and asking softly as if it was a secret - maybe it was: "Seriously dude, how do you do it?"

"Manage to stay friends with you? It is a strenuous maintenance of patience and strategically tuning you out," he answered matter-of-factly. By then he had turned the majority of his attention back to his work devoting only the bare minimum of cognitive effort to me. Of course most of that effort was put to good use in terms of the sarcasm. Always the sarcasm.

"No. Manage to have... relations with women that start when they pull your pants down and end when you put your pants up." My reluctance and hesitation to put this question into words drew his attention back to me.

"Relations?"

I knew he was just being thickheaded for the sake of annoying me. I had trained him too well. "Sex," I clarified.

His dark blue eyes peered at me. "You're a romantic," he accused. "You know, first I thought it just happened to you; the relationships. Because you're popular, attractive and from a wealthy family of course. But now I'm starting to think that you might actually be doing something to... invite them in."

"You think I'm attractive?" I wondered out loud with a playful tilt of my head.

He seemed taken aback by this, but only momentarily. His face seemed a little redder than it had been, but it could have just been my eyes fooling me. "Of everything I said, that is all you heard?"

"No." I spat back, then added with a soft, mumbling voice: "I heard everything before that too. Just tell me what it is you do!" I demanded to know. "I've been trying to several weeks now and don't have a single one-night-stand to show for it, instead I have Paulie, Catrice and now Maxxie, three more ex-girlfriends who glare at me in the hallways and whisper vicious things about me behind my back. Literally behind my back!"

"Why don't you just keep doing what you were doing? What is wrong with that? You got laid, didn't you?" he crudely asked. Heero wasn't particularly sensitive.

"I don't want to lead someone on. That's not fair. There should be a mutual understanding that it is just about the sex. Otherwise she will end up getting hurt and that is not what I'm after. I'm not that much of a prick." I groaned and leaned back in my seat, supporting my heavy head with my hands cupping the back of my sore neck. "And I don't want a relationship. I'm just not interested right now. I'm tired, I'm done!" I closed my eyes and took a deep breath when it registered how venomous my voice had become. When I opened them, I noticed the heartfelt look in Heero's eyes as he looked at me.

"Hilde screwed you up bad," he commented sympathetically.

"Yeah." After a few short moments spent it thought, I asked him bluntly with a concerned frown: "Does it make me a bad person? To just want to have sex?"

With a sarcastic snort he looked away. "If it does than I'm going to hell."

My frown just deepened. "That doesn't really answer my question."

He looked at me again. "You're not a bad person," he stressed. "You never could be, you never will be." He added dryly: "You're just a guy, with needs. Girls have needs too."

"Well, I wouldn't know it. When girls pull down your pants, they throw it away and get down to business. When girls pull down my pants, they start searching the pockets for an engagement ring."

Heero laughed, a pleasant, deep, honest rumble.

"I don't think it's funny. I don't think it's funny getting called a prick right in the middle of the University Library." In between the words, chuckles escaped my lips regardless and I playfully punched him - strong enough to nearly knock him off his chair - as he couldn't stop laughing.

"You shouldn't be offended," he said softly, his fingers toying with the corner of one of his diagrams, "you should be complimented. They want more than sex from you, they want you. All of you. That's a pretty big compliment if you ask me."

With a cocky grin I asked him: "Are you jealous?" The moment the words left my mouth, I regretted them, as I realized I may have been horribly insensitive.

He eased my mind when he chuckled and looked at me with sparkling eyes, no offense taken. "Yeah right! And have another "Relena" happen? No thanks."

I nodded, reminded that I am not the only screwed up guy in the room when it came to relationships. We both had a pretty unforgettable past experience that would understandably taint everything in the future. It was just easy to forget because he was always so calm about it, he didn't even seem to hate Relena, he was no more impatient and curt with her than with anybody else. Anybody other than me. Perhaps that is why Relena still had it in her head that she stood a chance. Well, he may be the better man for it, but I sure as hell was going to make it clear to Hilde that she stood no chance with me. Why should I spare her feelings when she had completely disregarded mine?

"Duo?" Heero's voice called through the thick fog of thoughts clouding up my mind.

"Yeah? Sorry, train of thoughts. Train wreck, actually." I hesitated momentarily before I looked at him seriously and confessed: "You know what I think though? I don't think I should feel complimented, because I don't think they want all of me. Not at all in fact. They see a branch in a very impressive family tree, a tree that grows dollar bills instead of leaves."

Heero looked at me for a while, kindly, empathetically, it was a rare but much appreciated look on him. It suited him too. He didn't offer me any advice or solace, instead he asked: "Do you want to get that coffee?"

I frowned and then gestured to his papers spread out over the table as I asked: "Weren't you going to study?"

To answer my question he neatly started gathering his work and putting it back into several folders and binders. "Too tired anyway," he elaborated, although it was no secret to me that he sacrificed his studying for my benefit. "Come on, let's get out of here."

In the cool night air we walked the short distance to the coffee house that was open until midnight for all the hardworking students. There was only a handful of people present, all familiar faces from the university. They nursed large cups of coffee as their dulls eyes stared into textbooks, notes or laptop screens.

"Hi," I said to gain the attention of the girl behind the counter, "can I have a large latte macchiato and a large black coffee?"

We waited for them to prepare our hot, caffeinated drinks and after paying we retreated to a table in a quiet corner away from our apparently brain-dead fellow students. I pushed the black coffee across the table towards him and wrapped my hands around the latte, waiting for it to cool to a temperature that wasn't going to scald my tongue.

"I don't usually come here," Heero pointed out.

"Me neither." I took a first, experimental sip and hissed after the hot liquid had burned it's way down my throat. "The coffee corner on campus has the best coffee. I only come here to break up with girls."

"Why here?"

"I don't know. Neutral ground I guess and you have some privacy but it's still in a public place, making it less likely for them to make a scene. And you can order the girl a slice of comfort. Their coffee may be mediocre but they sell excellent brownies."

"So you do know," he concluded.

I chuckled, embarrassed. "Yeah, guess I have given it more thought than I realized."

"Obviously."

Feeling a little attacked, I shot back to him: "Yeah and how did you masterfully go about breaking hearts?"

He delayed his answer with a slow sip of his black coffee. With challenging eyes he looked up at me. "I've never had a girlfriend, so I have never had to break up with someone."

My surprise must have been painfully evident on my face, explaining his sudden frown, like maybe he suddenly, unexpectedly, regretted telling me. I was quick to apologize for my unbridled reaction, but I was also quick to add, still embarrassingly astounded: "Really?"

He shrugged, it didn't appear to bother him much, but my opinion of it seemed to matter to him.

"How come I never knew this?"

Heero shrugged again. "It's not really a big deal."

I just blinked at him, hoping to be able to stare a more elaborate explanation out of him. To my surprise, I got exactly what I wanted.

"Girls have just never been interested in me like that, except Relena, go figure. And I was also never really interested. It just never happened. I'm not exactly socially gifted, of which you are well aware."

"Hell yeah I'm aware of that. I just always figured some other socially inept girl in Japan had shown interest."

Heero chuckled bitterly. "No, especially not back then. I was even worse then. I was way worse before I came here. Before I met you."

"I know," I agreed, "I met you before you met me. I mean-" I frowned at the illogic of my own statement. "I met you before knowing me had an effect on you."

"Yeah... You have your ways." He smirked.

"Dude, this is great!" I suddenly exclaimed, drawing brief, curious stares from the other present students.

Heero was as startled in response to my outburst as they were. "Excuse me?"

"Why didn't you just say so sooner? We can exchange knowledge, man! I can teach you how to date and you can teach me how to have one-night-stands, you know? Master-student, student-master." I was eager because it eased my own humiliation at having to turn to him for help, but most importantly, I was genuinely interested in helping him. It had always worried me that I was the only one he had, the only one he could talk to. Well, aside from his one friend on the swim team, but if possible, that guy was even less talkative than Heero was.

Heero sighed and shook his head. "Duo, no."

"No?"

"No. I don't want to date. I do my very best not to attract such attention..."

At my stare, with one of my eyebrows cocked, he amended: "Alright, I just don't change my natural, anti-social behavior for the sake of flying under the radar. I'm too busy, I have too many responsibilities and I have too much to lose if I lose focus. Besides, I don't have anything to teach you in return anyway, because there is nothing that I particularly do to facilitate those one-night-stands." He admitted dryly.

"You don't? But from our conversation a couple of weeks ago, I figured you were like this stud..."

"I never said such a thing."

"I know, I just thought..."

"I'm amused and strangely flattered that you would think so. But for you to think so is ill-informed. As I said, I can't even talk a girl into have dinner with me, let alone talk her into pulling down my pants and getting down to business, to use your eloquent phrasing." He smiled when he looked up at me, most likely because I had a comically confused look on my face. "This seems to come as a surprise," he astutely observed.

I shook my head, aware of how incredibly stupid I made myself appear. "I'm just wondering how it works then."

"Oh. The girls approach me, not vice versa," he explained matter-of-factly and took a sip of the coffee that must have gone cold in the meantime.

"They approach you? For sex, just sex?" I dumbly asked to clarify.

"Yes."

"So they use you?" I wasn't trying to be offensive or painfully blunt, I just had a hard time grasping the concept as I had always imaged things to work in the other direction, with the male as the aggressor. After all, if I had learned one thing from romantic comedies and past relationships, girls are usually the one to want more and not ashamed to enable the "more", sometimes forcefully so.

"They don't use me any more than I use them. It's a mutual understanding to satisfy a mutual need." Heero was characteristically rational about it.

"So, girls just come up to you and ask for sex?"

He glared at me, clearly displeased with how long this conversation was dragging out. "No, they come up to me and start flirting, aggressively. They initiate contact and I go along with it."

"Why you?" I blurted and bit my lip as soon as my words registered.

Heero cocked an eyebrow at me. "Thanks."

"No, that's not what I mean," I tried to reassure him, my face going red as the conversation became increasingly awkward and strangely intimate. "Jesus, I don't know what I mean. I guess... Everyone can tell that you're hot, but you are always so secluded, no girl other than that psycho bitch has ever shown interest in you. No offense."

He shrugged, not appearing offended in the least.

"It's just so weird to hear that horny girls throughout the university have been... tapping that," I finished with a frown.

"It doesn't happen very often. Once a month at most."

"But why you?" I wondered again. "I'm not saying you don't deserve the attention, but why would they pick you specifically? Maybe you have spiced up pheromones..."

Heero rolled his eyes at me. "Oh God."

I laughed, mostly out of nervousness at this very strange conversation during which I kept being overwhelmed by flashes of images of Heero and a faceless girl in the study room where we have lunch each day. "Dude, you have to admit though, you must have some serious sexual mojo!" Humor was my way of trying to alleviate the atmosphere. However, the onslaught of intrusive images continued and those few times I couldn't prevent my mental eye from looking at them, it was disturbing to be confronted with just how well I could envision his face. The expression was off, obviously, I had thankfully been spared witnessing my best friend in the throws of passion, but the amount of detail was astounding and added to my embarrassment. We have been spending way too much time together, I concluded.

Heero had a different theory on why he was a popular "resource" for a selection of the girls. It seemed like he had given it quite some thought. Not surprising of course, he wouldn't be Heero if he wouldn't search for underlying patterns, sketching a veritable blueprint for human behavior. Damn genius boy. He said: "I think it's because I'm anti-social. They know I won't tell anyone and they know I won't come back for more. Anonymity and control. Also no risk of falling for me."

"Why's that?"

Heero smirked at me. "Because I'm an asshole of course."

I chuckled. "Of course," I agreed, but added with a kinder tone: "You have your moments though." I sighed. I studied his features but I couldn't extract much, if any, information from them. I voiced my thoughts: "It doesn't bother you at all?"

"No."

I turned the cup of coffee round and round with my fingers, no longer interested in the liquid that had run cold. "Well, then that's what I want, a mutual understanding that it's just about the sex, no complications." I nodded at my own conclusion. "I don't want to trick some poor girl into thinking I'm interested in more. Take Maxxie for example, what was I supposed to do? I would have completely humiliated her if I had told everyone the morning after that it was just a physical, in-the-moment kind of thing. How do I avoid that?"

"I told you, I don't know."

"Maybe you could just, you know, spread the word?" I suggested with a devilish grin.

"It won't work. Every girl in our university is implicitly in love with you, or at least fool themselves into thinking so, or enticingly flattered if you would give them a chance. They would try to hold on to that, hope to be the girl that makes you happy, hope to be the girl that all the other girls are jealous of."

"Won't the chance to have sex with me be enough?"

Heero gave me a look that made words unnecessary.

"Don't feed the ego if you can't handle it," I quipped. "You were the one to say every girl is implicitly in love with me. With the exclusion of that psycho bitch of course."

"If you want," he replied dryly, "I could put in a good word for you."

Laughter briefly ruptured out of me. "I'll pass."

"Hey guys," a young girl in brown uniform interrupted us, "we're about to close, I have to ask you to leave."

"Sure," I said as Heero and I rose from our seats and headed towards the door, dumping our cups in the trash bin along the way. The door fell shut behind us and in the distant church bells chimed twelve times before the dead quiet of the night resumed. I only heard our footsteps in the gravel as we followed the path across the campus, back to our dorm building.

"Maybe I should just give up sex altogether." My voice was startling, inappropriately loud to the backdrop of the crunching beneath our feet.

"Maybe." Heero sounded unconvinced that I would be able to manage abstinence, rightfully so. I had never been long without a girlfriend, I had also never been forced to go without sex for an extended period of time. I liked sex. Any guy would concur. Any girl would too probably. I didn't know why it had to be so complicated.

"Or," I exclaimed more enthusiastically, "I should just find girls who don't go to this university. We should hit the off campus clubs, I'm pretty sure Nash will know some good ones. You could be my wingman!"

"I will do no such thing." Heero replied curtly.

"Why not?"

"I don't go to clubs."

"Is it because of the dancing? Are you insecure about the dancing?" Even in the darkness of the poorly lit path I could feel the intensity of his glare.

"My dancing is fine."

"Heero, crossing your arms in front of your chest and leaning your back against the bar is not dancing."

He stopped dead in his tracks and promptly folded his arms across his chest. "Oh yeah?" He challenged.

I smirked at him. "Heero, it's nothing to be embarrassed about."

"Trust me, it's not my dancing that causes me embarrassment. It's yours." He snapped.

"I happen to be a very good dancer."

"Which poor, moronic, blind man ever tricked you into thinking that this is good dancing." He proceeded with what I presumed to be a demonstration of my dance moves, although greatly exaggerated for sure. Heero wildly flailed his arms around whilst bobbing his head up and down and shifting his weight from one foot to the other completely out of the rhythm of his other movement.

Instead of continuing the defense of my abilities on the dance floor, I let out a hearty laugh.

"It looks even worse in strobe lighting," he tried with a straight face, but then let out a breathless chuckle of his own.

"I cannot believe you just did that," I commented, bemused, as we continued down the path, our hands in our pockets and our heads ducked between our shoulders as the chill of the night really started to set in and seep through our limited layers of clothing. "I so hope you were in full view of a security camera."

"I wasn't," he assured me.

I didn't hesitate to believe him.

When we entered our dorm building we hit a wall of rumbling laughter, thick smoke of joints and cigarettes and the unmistakable smell and sound of someone throwing up in one of the two bathrooms.

"The architect and the engineer!" several guys shouted in unison.

I walked into the large dining room where a large group of senior students had gathered around the elongated table, each one held a set of cards in one hand and either a cigarette or a bottle of beer in the other. Heaped into a pile approximately in the center of the table were crumpled up bills, strewn coins, packs of cigarettes and what looked like someone's paper.

"Look's like I missed out on a lot of fun," I commented insincerely, although they couldn't tell. I wasn't really into the whole get-shit-faced thing that a lot of students spend most of their time in college doing. I always thought it had to do with growing up too fast. These guys were released of parental supervision the moment they stepped through the gates as freshmen and went crazy in the absence of control. My life had been different, I had been completely fending for myself since I outgrew nannies at the age of ten, according to my parents.

"You sure did," Nash commented, a wicked grin on his face. He looked at the others and they started laughing.

"Is that someone's research paper?" I nodded at the bundled papers with a complicated title on the front page.

The laughter momentarily became even louder and I didn't get my answer till Nash caught his breath. "It's Norwood's," he barely managed.

I scrunched up my face. Jack Norwood was one of the decidedly less popular students in school who had the misfortune of being housed in our dorm building, which nearly exclusively consisted of jocks, most of whom utter assholes. "I thought you would never let him play."

"Well, he insisted," Nash explained and then another fit of laughter overcame him before turning into a furious coughing fit. Nothing a sip of beer couldn't resolve.

"Where is he now?"

"In the bathroom," one of the other's said, "puking his guts out!"

More laughter, amidst of which one of the guys from building C informed me his poor hand had forced him to fold, losing his research paper which was due in less than a week.

I sighed. "Come on guys."

"Hey, we didn't force him to bet his paper. Besides, if he is such a genius, he'll be able to write a new one in time," some asshole from the other end of the table argued.

"You're going to give it back to him," I insisted.

"We will," Nash assured me, still laughing though, "we just wanted to make him squirm."

"I think he has squirmed enough." Heero practically growled. He pushed past me and leaned over the table, grabbing the paper.

The whole group groaned in disappointment and called after Heero as he walked off in the direction of the bathroom.

"Your girlfriend is no fun," one of them said.

I ignored him. I used to get mad and defensive when they called him that, it was offensive to us both, but my heated reactions of the past had only fuelled the mockery, which I had learned to see as harmless. I leaned over Nash, looking him in the eye. He was obviously drunk, but I inquired seriously anyway: "Is this your idea of making this year memorable? You want to look back, twenty years from now, and start a conversation with: Remember when we made Norwood puke his guts out?"

"Yeah..." was his delayed answer with a crooked grin.

Without saying anything further I walked off and left them to their demented idea of fun, following Heero. I stood in the doorway, nauseated by the smell that was the result of too much experimental drinking and a nervous stomach. Norwood had just flushed the toilet. Sitting on his knees in front of the bowl he looked up at Heero in amazement and gratitude as he accepted the thick stack of papers held out to him.

"T-thanks, man."

Heero didn't say anything in response, as was in his nature. He promptly turned around and walked away.

"Are you okay?" I asked Norwood.

He dumbly nodded.

Assured that he was fine and would be left alone, I went upstairs. I walked in on Heero ripping his clothes off his body, he was obviously angry. I narrowly avoided an elbow as he stripped out of his shirt.

I leaned my shoulder against the frame of the top bunk and watched him struggle with the buttons of his jeans as he simultaneously tried to toe off his shoes. "Should I concoct an alibi for you, in case I wake up tomorrow and discover you have killed all of them?" I wondered sarcastically.

"I just can't wait for this damn year to be over," he grumbled as he finally sat down to properly untie and take off his shoes.

My chest instantly felt sore at the thought.

"What?" he snapped.

"Nothing."

"Then what's with the look?"

"This is not a look, this is my face," I stated, even though there had definitely been a look.

He glared at me. "I may suck at reading other people, but you know damn well I know that look of yours. Spit it out."

I shrugged, hesitant to reveal the reason behind "the look" because I didn't want to come across as overly emotional. Of course, things were very easily and very quickly considered to be over emotional by Heero, there was almost no avoiding it. "I'm just not as eager as you are for this final year to end," I said with a weak voice, wondering if he would even understand what I meant by that.

He didn't. "Why?" he questioned, followed by a huff, "You hate school. Besides, you would finally be rid of Hilde."

His point was just, but not the point I was trying to make. I stated more bluntly, my voice inadvertently betraying my frustration at his lack of empathy: "Hilde is not the only one I would never see again."

It finally seemed to dawn on him what I had been hinting at. He neatly put away his beat up sneakers and commented matter-of-factly: "We could still see each other."

With his back turned towards me I was especially clueless regarding his true feelings on the matter. I turned my gaze away, out of decency as he started pulling his jeans down to change into a pair of sweatpants and a simple T-shirt. I looked out the window, into the darkness of the night and focused on a single street lamp in the distance. In the corner of my eye, I noted his movements were sharp, impatient and frustrated. I didn't know why, Heero oftentimes still managed to be a mystery to me.

"You could come visit me in Japan," he continued, turning to face me after pulling his shirt over his head. He absentmindedly worked to push his arms through the short sleeves. "You could certainly afford to."

His passive aggressive comment stung, as Heero had always been the one person to not think of me as the rich kid. "My parents are rich, not me," I corrected him.

"Right. I'm sorry." He didn't sound particularly sincere. He leaned back against the closet door, his arms crossed in front of his chest, his gaze stubborn, otherwise unreadable, and turned away from me.

"Or you could stay here. Get a job in the States," I carefully suggested, even as I should have known better.

As expected, Heero was quick to shoot down my idea. "You know I have to go back. I have to take care of my grandmother."

"Your grandmother is in a home, she already has plenty of people to take care of her." I was being insensitive and very selfish, but his indifference about likely never seeing each other again after graduation caused me a dull, throbbing pain. I had a lot of friends, or at least, if asked, a lot of guys I knew from classes or basketball practice, would claim to be my friend, a lot of girls would too. However, if someone would ask me, the answer would be simple. I liked those other guys just fine, I could laugh with them and hang out with them, but I had only one true friend. One friend who didn't like me just because I was rich, popular or captain of the basketball team, but rather, liked me in spite of those things. Liked me for everything else, the things that actually made me, me. Needless to say, this one friend was Heero.

It was the same for Heero. I was his one friend, literally. I guessed, based on this, I just expected him to value my company more.

Heero bit back venomously, he was never one to cower after a strike. "Excuse me for having a family that I need to look after, that I am responsible for. Not everyone is blessed with the kind of freedom you have."

"You know that this is not the kind of freedom that makes me feel blessed," I reminded him.

Heero exhaled and ran his hands through his messy hair. "I'm sorry," he breathed, this time sincerely. "Don't listen to me, I'm saying all the wrong things; things I don't mean. Nash and his friends just get on my nerves like that. I don't see why you like him. You should hate him, you should hate him for the same reason you hate Hilde. Because Nash fucks with people's lives too, all for his own benefit. Norwood could have gotten into serious trouble if they would have taken his paper, he could have been kicked out of the honors program. His academic work is everything to him, his entire life depends on it and Nash and those guys toy with that for their own amusement." He lay down onto his mattress, on top of the sheets, his hands behind his head and his legs crossed at the ankle. Every tendon in his body stood out as he fought the urge to go downstairs and kick their asses, which I knew he was more than capable of.

I wasn't sure if I understood why this got him upset to such an extent. He wasn't friends with Norwood, Heero wasn't a dick to him as most of the others were, but he never even spoke a damn word to the guy. Yet the matter seemed to affect him personally, when normally, Heero isn't affected easily. "Why is this getting to you?" I inquired softly.

"Norwood is me, okay?" He blurted and he averted his angry stares to the wall. "I'm Norwood. This education is everything to me. My grandmother, the only person in the world who ever loved me, depends on me getting a good job out of this. It scares me to know that there is this jackass, sleeping just down the hall, who can ruin everything for the sake of a few laughs." He squeezed his eyes shut tightly and breathed deeply through his nose.

"Nash is not going to ruin this for you." I assured him. I was overwhelmed by his raw honesty and also, somehow, flattered that he would share this fear with me. Heero had been under an incredible amount of stress, I never even knew exactly how much until now. "Nash is not a bad guy. Underneath all the crap, I think he might actually be a good guy."

"There's a lot of crap."

I nodded, in full agreement. "No doubt. I've hated guys like Nash all my life, but now we are in our final year, about to be done with school and classes, going out into the real world and I need to be able to believe that even they reach a certain kind of maturity and respectability. And you know what, I actually like him... Not all the time, but... most of the time."

"Why would you hate them to begin with? You are practically one of them."

I leaned forward, into the shadow of the top bunk, bringing my face closer to his to confront him with my mysterious smirk. "You don't know everything about me, Yuy."

"Get the fuck out of my personal space," he growled and reached out a hand.

I felt his hand against the top of my head, fingers burying into my hair and he forcefully pushed me back, not letting go until I was a full arm's length away. When I looked at him he stuck his tongue out. It seemed his bad mood had been temporary and it had come to pass. I actually think Heero should get angry more often, he certainly has plenty to be angry about.

Dressed in shorts and a comfortable shirt I turned off the lights and groped my way through the dark, back to the ladder that led up to my victorious top bunk. I climbed into bed, grumbling as I could hear roars of laughter coming all the way from the dining room.

"You know I would if I could, right?" Heero asked.

"Hm?"

"I would stay, if I could," he clarified, "but my grandmother needs me back home. That is why I agreed to come here in the first place, so I could get a good education and take care of her."

I took a deep breath, it was shaky and I didn't like that, but I couldn't deny it. "I know man. I'm sorry about before. I was being unreasonable. It's just," I hesitated, but after a short pause I managed to let go of my ego and confess to him once more, just to make sure it got through his thick skull: "I'm really going to miss you."

"Yeah..." he breathed quietly.

We both seemed to lose ourselves in thoughts, mostly undisturbed by the laughter and the shouting coming from down stairs.

Heero snorted several minutes into the silence between us. "You know this is why they call me your girlfriend, right?"

I laughed abruptly. "Yeah. You know what they call the girls I date?"

From his silence I deduced he didn't.

I answered, biting back laughter: "My dirty mistresses." I smiled from ear to ear when I heard Heero's low, deep chuckles. "Please be my wingman," I shamelessly begged, "I really need the dirty mistresses."

"Do it yourself," he replied stubbornly.

"You don't go to a club by yourself, you need back-up. Girls travel in packs you know."

He yawned loudly and responded with deep, tired voice: "Ask Nash. Ask Obie."

I rolled over to the edge of the bed and peered down at him. In the dim light I could see his eyes were closed, but they flared open as he must have felt my stare.

"Yes, dear?"

"Nash is not a wingman, he is total kamikaze and Obie just got back from Vegas, remember? From eloping, as in: getting married?"

He stubbornly closed his eyes. "I'm not doing it," he muttered.

I could have sworn I saw a pout, but maybe the moonlight played tricks on me. "Do you honestly think you stand a chance at refusing me?"

One eye cracked open to glare at me and even that one, diminished by darkness, would be intimidating to anyone - anyone but me. I've been barked at enough to know that this "dog don' bite". Not me at least. I just stared back at him.

"Oh God!" he groaned, he reaching both hands up to rub his eyes.

"Please? Please, Heero, please! You know I can make your life miserable if you say no and you know that I will."

"Why not give your other potential solution a try first?" he suggested.

"And what would that be?"

"Giving up on sex altogether."

"That wasn't an idea so much as a brain fart," I dead-panned.

"If you try it and you really can't keep it in your damn pants, I'll... be your wingman," he relented.

"How long would I have to try?"

Heero opened his eyes again to once again submit me to the brunt force of his glare, not fully aware - or in denial of - the fact that I was immune to it. "It's almost one o'clock, I have class at eight, meaning I have to start my morning run at six thirty. Why are we still talking as opposed to sleeping?"

I flashed him a grin.

"You are insufferable." His brows furrowed deeply as his tired mind tried to think, tried to come up with rules for the ultimatum he had given me. "What's the longest you have gone without sex."

"Fourteen years," was my hasty reply.

"I meant recently, not since birth- wait... You lost your virginity at fourteen?"

"Stella Grey," I mused absentmindedly, "she was... the most developed girl in our class."

"This is so wrong..." Heero groaned.

"Gave a whole new meaning to "play date"-" I continued, knowing it would annoy him and I would get some fun out of it.

"Please stop talking!" He interrupted me. "Just answer my question."

I dragged out a "hm" as long as my breath lasted as I gave his question serious consideration. "Three weeks I think."

"Three weeks? So what, in this final year you would have had to recycle girlfriends?"

"Says the guy who bones a girl every month in the freaking library restroom," I shot back.

"Fine. Four weeks. Try it for four weeks and if you go stir crazy by then, I'll be your damn wingman."

"Four weeks?" I nearly rolled out of bed and that would have been a very painful landing.

"Four weeks," he confirmed and then rolled onto his side, facing the wall.

"Fine. I'll try celibacy for four weeks, to show you how desperately I need you to be my wingman," I agreed, fully confidant that I would find a way, long before those four weeks were over, to get Heero to go clubbing with me. He had no idea what he had just gotten himself into, but he was about to find out. I had my distinct ways of making him recognize the superiority of my plans, which boil down to a simple but effective strategy of annoying the living daylights out of him.

I was aware that I had plenty of semi-friends to call on, Nash and Obie weren't my only choices, but really, there was no choice at all for me to make if I was being completely honest with myself. I wouldn't feel comfortable with anybody other than Heero with me. What's the point of having a wingman when he makes you uncomfortable and unconfident? Besides, if the hunt would be a total bust, at least I knew for sure that with Heero, I would still have a good time.

"Whatever," he mumbled in response, already half asleep.

I rolled onto my back and settled into a comfortable position, but I knew I would not find sleep quickly. Not because the other guys were still being obnoxiously loud downstairs, but because I was already thinking diabolical game plans. Heero was just too much damn fun.


	4. Chapter 4

**Thousand Words**

**Chapter Four**

Two weeks into our agreement I could tell I had Heero on the edge, about to jump off and agree to go troll clubs with me. It was a carefully balanced program of becoming increasingly chagrin and annoying and having him catch me doing something utterly inappropriate basically every morning when he would return from his run. I mean, I didn't allow him to see anything of course, but I damn well made sure he would know exactly what he had just 'accidentally' walked in on. At first it was all just to get him to agree with my logic, as I loved it, almost sinfully, when I could get the stubborn guy to agree with me on anything; it was a challenge I gladly accepted. After a while, if anything, it was just hilarious. Three-quarters of the time I wasn't even actually doing anything, just pumping my fist up and down under the sheets and making exaggerated noises. Once he had left, quickly, after the usual: "Good God Duo!", I was free to laugh my ass off.

The key to the success of this strategy was that whereas I am completely, inexplicably shameless, any sort of sexual reference made Heero very uncomfortable. Needless to say, catching me masturbating - or 'masturbating' - with increasing frequency caused him serious anxiety. I would almost feel sorry for the guy. Almost, if he didn't look so funny with his eyes wide and horrified much like the expression he sported when we went to see that movie where aliens burst out of people's chests in gruesome detail. Like clockwork, what always followed, was a comment that, in some way or another, subconsciously involved religion in the matter: "Good God, Duo!", "Jesus, Duo!", "Mother of God, Duo!" and "Holy shit, Duo!"

He cracked me up.

This morning, however, I had overslept and I had no time for the embarrassing ritual, so I was half dressed when there was a cautious knock on the door.

"Duo?" Heero's voice sounded muffled through the closed door.

"Yeah?"

"Is your hand anywhere near your dick?" was the dry question.

I laughed, pulling my shirt over my head and reached out to pull the door open, making him jump. I gestured down at my fully clothed body. "Satisfied?"

"Yes. For once I am, instead of you." He stepped inside and closed the door behind him, already toeing off his running shoes.

I looked at my watch as I put it on, only now noticing he had been gone longer than usual. I casually asked him about his run.

"I did a double round," he answered, pulling his shirt over his head and then peeling the skin tight, black shorts off his legs. "To be honest, I was hoping I'd miss you. Or at least: that I'd miss the morning showing of 'Duo Maxwell and the Art of Masturbation'."

"What is that supposed to mean?" I inquired innocently, grinning behind his back.

Heero wrapped a towel around his waist and grabbed his shampoo and soap. When he turned back to face me, he rolled his eyes at me. "Please, you've been jerking off so much lately it's like you've been trying to rub off your fingerprints."

I could only laugh in response to that.

"No wonder you've been so cranky lately. Must be exhausting, playing with yourself all the time."

"Actually, it is the one thing that makes me feel invigorated," I bantered.

Heero started out the door. "I'm going to take a shower."

"You should try it sometime!" I called after him as he walked down the hallway. Coming from one of the other dorm rooms I heard a groggy voice yell: "Shut up, Duo!"

I closed the door behind me and headed over to the main building, passing by the coffee shop for my morning shot of energy. Strangely though, I'd been so focused on pestering Heero in the early morning and finding so much gratification in it, that I didn't have nearly as much trouble waking up lately. With time to spare I casually walked over to my classroom, one hand in my pocket, the other wrapped around the warmth of my cardboard coffee cup, the largest size they had. First class of the day: math. I truly detested the subject, but with Heero's help at least I could face these classes with confidence. He had even helped me get ahead of the schedule, giving me some freedom to focus more on my other courses, as normally, trying to figure out the mathematical aspect of the craft took up most of my time and energy.

"Good morning Mister Maxwell," the teacher greeted me from behind his desk as I walked in what I thought was an otherwise empty classroom.

"Good morning," I returned politely, inwardly smiling at the grey-haired man, dressed in tweed from head to toe. He had a picture of Einstein on his desk, one of the lesser intelligent student(s) had once commented: "Why are you sticking your tongue out in that picture?" That was a hoot. Sadly, the guy failed. No surprises there.

Walking further into the classroomto my assigned desk all the way in the back, I grumbled when I noticed the desks in front of my own were taken by their usual occupants: that psycho bitch and one of her minions.

She must have noticed my dismay, because she glared at me and snarled: "Good morning, Duo."

I smiled at her sweetly and commented in return: "Morning, Relena. Is that a new straightjacket?"

Evidently she suddenly felt very uncomfortable in her obviously new, white, leather jacket but she maintained her glare.

I placed my heavy bag on the desk and sat down with a sigh.

Relena leaned in close to her friend and furiously started whispering.

I cast my gaze up to the ceiling and let out another, frustrated sigh.

The classroom started to fill and when it was time the teacher closed the door and started his monotonous explanation of the material of the new chapter, accompanied by illegible writing on the black board and diagrams that didn't make much sense with their crooked lines and indecipherable notes. Luckily, Heero's explanations were always crystal clear to me, basically rendering the old teacher obsolete. So I wasn't really paying attention, attempting to do a calculation from the next chapter, which Heero hadn't discussed with me yet, just to see what kind of problems I ran into and what questions I would need to ask him to make sense of this.

I wasn't the only one whose mind drifted back to Heero. In front of me, I kept hearing his name, as the girls actually just started whispering louder so they could hear each other over the lecture.

"Oh, I know, he is so, so cute," the girl next to Relena agreed with her. But then she pouted and pointed out: "He's kind of short though. Sad."

"Well, that is why I figured Heero and I are perfect for each other, because I am short too. I mean, how much more obvious could it be that we are meant to be?"

Even her friend frowned at her delusion.

That psycho bitch just couldn't let him go. I really didn't understand why she held on to her misguided fantasies. Heero wasn't more rude or curt to her than to others, but he never gave her a positive reaction that would justify her obsession with him. Everyone just chalked it up to love; it makes you do crazy things and it doesn't just go away just because it's unrequited. But I doubted if it was really love.

If she truly loved him, would she not be able to recognize that what she did to him was wrong and prohibited any possibility of a romantic relationship? If she loved him, wouldn't she respect him enough to leave him alone when that is what he, so obviously, wanted from her? Honestly, I had long figured that Relena just couldn't stand it that there was a guy that didn't desire her. She was undoubtedly the most popular girl of the university, practically everyone was her 'friend' and she was undeniably attractive, even I could see that, you know, underneath the thick layer of psycho bitch. She wasn't even all that bad; I probably wouldn't have had any qualms with her if she hadn't pulled that stunt on Heero in our Freshman year. Clearly she was smart as well, she was at the top of our class, living up to her full ride scholarship. For all intents and purposes, she could be considered a 'catch', she clearly thought as much. It probably just bugged the shit out of her that Heero didn't see her that way, never did, not even before the infamous psycho-bitch-fiasco.

"I don't think he is good enough for you though," the girl started quietly, looking back at the teacher to make sure he hadn't caught onto their conversation.

He hadn't, busily drawing what looked like a horse, though I was pretty certain it wasn't intended to actually be a horse.

"What makes you say that?" Relena scoffed.

The girl looked uncomfortable, but then confided: "I've heard from a lot of other girls that if you ever... have an itch..." she scrunched up her face and then continued more quietly: "he'd be happy to scratch it."

"Who told you this?"

"Carly... And Megan... And Nenna..." The girl looked guilty and uncomfortable.

"Why didn't anyone ever tell me? I..." she squirmed and then admitted: "have an itch."

"Please," I grumbled under my breath, "he wouldn't scratch you with a ten foot pole."

Relena, having overhead my comment, turned in her seat and settled her glare back on me.

Like I would be impressed, let alone intimidated. I was on the receiving end of Heero's glare at least twice a day and even though that was much more intense, the novelty of that had also long worn off.

"Only because you keep riling him up. Heero has nothing against me, it is you who is making a big deal and interfering," Relena hissed.

"Well, that's what I do; I interfere: I drive friends to hospitals when some bitch has gone all psycho on them," I snapped back at her viciously. I still got angry whenever I remembered that night. "I'd demand you wear a muzzle if I wasn't so convinced Heero is now appropriately aware that he needs to be careful around you."

"Mister Maxwell, could you please return your attention to the front of the class rather than flirting with pretty girls."

The entire class softly chuckled, every single one of them fully aware that I loathed Relena, though most of them unclear as to why.

Relena turned back in her seat and addressed the teacher in grossly sweet tone: "Mister Thomas, Duo is being really disruptive, it is really hard for me to focus on your teachings with him constantly trying to engage me in conversation."

"You heard the lady, Mister Maxwell, be quiet from now on."

I wasn't even going to defend myself, actually just relieved that Relena would be forced to remain quiet the duration of the class because the teacher would frequently be looking our way to check on me.

Lunch time always came as a welcome break to me. I got sandwiches just off campus because they had the best and there wasn't the afternoon rush hour of hungry and bored students, and then hurried to meet Heero in our private study room in the library, casually bribing the librarian on the way. This had been our routine for as long as we had been genuine friends, which wasn't exactly ever since we met. Heero and I really needed to warm up to each other; this warming-up took the better part of our Freshman year and only really took off after the psycho-bitch-incident, so in a strange way, I owed Relena.

Caught up in those musings I strolled through the library and knocked on the door before entering the study room. I did that ever since I discovered Heero occasionally did the nasty in there. I presumed that after this period of near-religious masturbating, Heero would also pick up the habit of knocking before joining me any sort of private space.

"Wassup?"

He shrugged, not knowing what the appropriate response would be.

"Chicken, beef or vegetarian?" I held up the sandwiches.

"I'll go for vegetarian, because I'm positive you won't be eating that one yourself."

I threw him the sandwich and winked: "You got that right." I saved the beef for later in the day; I had a long day of classes ahead of me, followed immediately by basketball practice. I sat down and dug into the chicken sandwich. When I took a bite that was too large for me to handle I started coughing and gratefully accepted the bottle of water Heero handed me.

"It helps if you don't try to inhale your food."

"Thanks for the valuable insight, I don't know how I managed without it," I retorted dryly.

We both quietly worked our way through our lunch, sharing Heero's large bottle of water. When I was done I propped my feet up on the table and looked at him mischievously.

He tried to ignore me but not before long his curiosity got the better of him and he wondered with an irritated tone: "What?"

"Carly, Megan and Nenna?"

He coughed and covered his mouth to prevent him from spitting his large gulp of water all over his papers.

"I mean, Carly and Nenna I get, those are nice girls, but Megan is just... evil."

"I actually thought she was kind of nice. She is funny."

"Right, I forgot I was talking to Mister Biting-Sarcasm himself."

"I slept with Carly and Nenna, but not with Megan, she came by with those intentions, but we ended up just talking. She's alright. How do you know about them anyway?" he wondered.

"One of Relena's friends was telling her about it in class and I overheard."

This seemed to bother him slightly, he had probably hoped the sexual activities would never be discussed, after all, as far as he was concerned, that was part of the deal. He never mentioned specific girls, or any other sort of details, to me.

Responding to his inner trouble, that showed in uncomfortable body language, I responded: "You know how girls are, they talk. In fact, it's how guys are too. I thought you were fine with the whole set-up."

"I was, I mean, I am, it's just a little weird to know that they are talking about it."

"Well, girls still come to you, right? So I'm guessing the word of mouth is all good," I joked, though recognizing there was probably a truth to that. I could only hope my sexual partners spoke of me kindly as well. There was no way of knowing, any guy would prefer to think of himself as an Olympic gold medalist should 'shagging' ever become an Olympic sport, but truth be told there was always the daunting possibility that we would not even make it through the initial qualifications. I had heard of women faking 'it' so often - it was integrated in many entertainment media as a common punch line - and so expertly, that I really didn't want to stop and wonder whether any of the 'positive feedback' was real.

Keeping with the program to convince Heero to come club and bar-hopping with me, I said morosely: "But can we not talk about sex, makes me horny."

"Yes, please," he adamantly agreed.

"There are some upsides to celibacy though. My right hand palm has never been softer." It was hard to keep a straight face.

Heero looked up from his papers to firmly glare at me. "I thought you didn't want to talk about it."

"I talked to Nash and there is this really great club up in Jameston; it's only twenty minutes away by train."

"It's been only two weeks," he dutifully reminded me.

"Yeah, exactly! I'm not going to last another two weeks! Seriously, my dick is already a little sore."

Heero just snorted.

"Please?" I continued with my most pitiful voice. "It would be so much fun. The architect and the engineer, out on the town, on the prowl." I smirked at him when he looked up with a quirked eyebrow.

"Duo, I'm far too busy with this project, besides, what the hell am I supposed to do once you've 'made a kill'? Stand by and hold your drink?"

"I won't take some girl to a back alley or something. We would just go out, have fun and see if we can get some phone numbers of girls who are willing to just hook-up some time. I could teach you my famous dance moves?"

He rolled his eyes. "If I must, I'd rather learn them directly from the source, your mentor, you know? Though I don't necessarily know where to find an epileptic Gibbon monkey on short notice..."

"Ha. Ha. I might die of laughter."

He flashed me a self-satisfied smirk.

"Speaking of I might die," I started as I decided to go for a more guilt-tripping approach to convincing him, "don't you think it's time you paid me back for saving your life?"

He looked at me challengingly, not at all impressed by the sudden change in tactics. "First of all, I paid you back plenty, because you used the same excuse to get me to pull that prank on Obie in sophomore year and to pee in that public fountain and to help you with math and even that one time to get me to give you the last bite of my chocolate candy bar."

"Well, I was so hungry I thought I was going die! It was your turn to save me."

He ignored me and continued: "Secondly, I was never in any mortal danger."

I quirked an eyebrow at him and spoke mysteriously: "We'll never know though, will we? Because I got you to the hospital so fast."

He groaned and tried to focus on his schoolwork. Heero always worked through his lunch breaks. The only time he truly wasn't studying was when he was asleep or when he had a swim meet.

Grumbling, I was not about to give up. "Come one Heero, I already asked Martin to fill in for me at the on campus bar this Friday."

He let out a long and exaggerated sigh. "Fine."

I hadn't even paid attention to what he said, so I just continued to beg: "Don't be such a partypoop Heero, please just- wait," Heero was looking at me funny and somewhere in the back of my head it registered that he had said "fine". My lips formed a happy smirk. "For real?"

"Yes, but only because you would never stop bugging me about it if I kept saying no."

"You got that right."

"But I don't ever want to fucking see you masturbating again," he warned me with an accusing finger pointed my way.

I smiled sheepishly. "I promise. Man, this is going to be fantastic!"

"Then why do I already regret it?" he mumbled under his breath.

"Just so you know, I'm going to consider this a binding verbal contract." I caught a glimpse of my watch and jumped up. "Shit man, I got to hurry." I walked past him and with my right hand I ruffled his hair, because I knew how much he hated that. "Love you man, you're the best!"

"That hand with which you just touched me had better been cleaned since you last used it!" he called after me.

With no time left for additional banter I jogged across campus to make it in time for my next class: art history. Apparently they deemed it important for future architects to be aware of the styles of the past. The teacher always argued: if a client ever asks you for a Rococo inspired feel, you better damn well know what the fuck Rococo is. I never much minded the class, the teacher had a foul mouth and that always made for fun lectures, especially when he couldn't figure out the power point again. The only downside of the class was that it was one of the classes I shared with Hilde, worse still was that we were forced to sit next to each other. The class was seated in alphabetical order and because it was such a small class, of only fourteen students, there was no one whose last name started with N, O, P, Q or R.

When I walked through the door most of my classmates were already present, including her. With heavy feet I walked up to my seat, purposefully ignoring her as I always did.

After letting out a sigh she commented: "Duo, we are going to be sitting next to each other for the rest of the year. You can't keep ignoring me all this time."

To prove my point that I most certainly could, I didn't respond. The only indication that I had even heard her was the way in which my tendons stood out as my muscles tensed up with anger.

"How many times do I have to say I'm sorry?"

It took all self-control I had not to shout at her that no amount of apologies - especially empty ones, as hers had become - could right the wrong she had done.

Thankfully, she didn't say anything for the duration of the class.

I dutifully went to all my classes of the day, relieved that the worst one was over with and then made my way to the gym to hurriedly get changed in the spare sweatpants and T-shirt that I kept in my locker.

We started practicing free-throws. I got increasingly more arrogant and insufferable as I was the only one to nail every single shot. After the free-throws, coach Harford divided us up in two teams and made us compete against each other, in the meantime supplying us with constructive criticism like: "You suck, Banes!" and "My grandmother could outrun you, captain!"

Yeah, he was just a ball of joy wrapped in helpfulness.

At least I could take pride in the fact that my half of the team never lost its winning position, always a few points ahead. Of course that made the other team a little more competitive, translating into more fouls and body contact. Coach Harford was abusing his whistle and screaming at them: "If you did that in a real match it would be free-throws galore for the opposite team!"

After a five minute break where we all lay on the floor of the gym, panting and holding our hands over our hearts, the teams were mixed up and we got sent back to the court for a rematch. When the coach whistled to indicate the end of practice, the score was tied.

"Alright, well, that wasn't all bad, I suppose," he commented as we dragged our feet back to the locker-room for a cold shower and to get dressed.

Quickly revitalized by the cold water, it was only a matter of time before the first banter started to echo off the tiled walls.

"Hey Fischer, did the water shrink your junk or are you always that small?"

"Bend over and take it like champ!"

When I took my hair down for a quick rinse, turning my back towards the others, I heard sharp catcalls and: "Turn around pretty lady!"

I dealt with it the only way I knew how. I turned around and jested: "If you want it, jump up on it!"

"Duo, quit swinging your dick at us," Obie deadpanned.

We all laughed and returned to the task of cleaning ourselves and then drying ourselves, before the tournament of wet towel slapping would commence.

When I was fully dressed and my hair tied in a ponytail to give it more time to air dry, I walked over to the indoor pool to see if Heero's swim practice had already come to an end. As soon as I opened the door, the smell of chlorine and the sound of splashing and echoed shouts hit me. Six male students stood by the water line, hugging themselves as the drying water on their skin made them cold. The coach was at the opposite end of the pool, walking along with two swimmers dueling it out in the water, basically just spurring them both on with a mantra of: "Come on! Come on!"

Noticing that two familiar faces were missing from the line up by the pool, I knew who were fighting it off in the water. I walked to the side and seated myself halfway up the bleachers, overlooking the large pool. From high up I could tell it was a close race, neither one of them seemed to have a clear advantage. When the blurred figures reached one end of the pool they rolled in the water and used their legs to push off the wall, their bodies gliding through the clear water smoothly before their resumed their powerful strokes. The coach directed two students to wait for them at the finish line to decide on the winner as the swimmers started on the home stretch.

The speed never failed to amaze me. I knew I was, in comparison, quite the buffoon in the water. Heero moved smoothly through the water, almost effortlessly, his lacking height appeared to be no disadvantage, not even against his super tall opponent.

Both students raised their hands at the same time as the swimmers touched the wall, ending their race.

A tie. I knew that would bug the shit out of Heero.

Heero and his opponent easily climbed up on the edge of the pool, catching their breath and removing their caps and goggles. They both seemed somewhat disappointed when they were informed it was a tie, but congratulated each other nevertheless. They were sort of friends, after all, even though they were always trying to beat each other.

I walked down the bleachers as they got up on their feet. Heero spotted me and offered me an exhausted smile.

"Hey," he breathed as I approached him, running his hand through his wet hair, shaking out some of the droplets.

I was grateful the basketball uniforms were more forgiving than the skintight swimwear, even though I acknowledged Heero and his friend had nothing to be self-conscious about, both being graced with the typical 'swimmer's build': lean and defined - but not bulky - musculature. Not to say I was a couch potato, but for some reason I would feel more self-conscious about those tight shorts. Swim jammers, they are called, Heero had informed me once. To me they just looked like the tight spandex shorts Heero often wore when he went out running. Of course Heero didn't let unnecessary inhibitions get in the way of hydrodynamics, nor aerodynamics.

The navy blue swimwear was skintight and rode low on the hips and reached down to just above the knee. The design was plain, no patterns or striping, like I had seen other teams wear, just the university swim team logo in white on the outer thigh.

"Hey, beat your own record yet?" I asked, blinking my eyes a couple of times when I realized I had been staring.

"Not yet, but I'm getting close."

Last year at a swim meet Heero set a near legendary time, breaking all previous records of the university. Ever since then, he and the tall guy have been working hard to try and break it.

"You remember Trowa, right?" Heero gestured to the tree of a man next to him.

"Of course!" I politely shook hands with him. I hardly ever saw Trowa, he took classes at a different facility across town, but he was a difficult guy to forget. He was the guy to drive me and Heero to the hospital that night, being the only one willing to sacrifice his car. On top of that, the man was tall as a skyscraper, which was quite memorable. Having Heero standing at his side was almost comical. Heero wasn't abnormally short - especially for an Asian guy - but it sure looked that way when he stood side by side with Trowa. "How's it going?"

"Good. Getting ready for the competition two weeks from now."

"You're going up against the swim team from the University of Pittsburgh, right?" I remembered Heero mentioning it.

"Yeah. They don't stand a chance, we slayed them last time," Trowa boasted.

"So, will you guys be shaving your legs again?" I teased.

"Don't mind him," Heero said to Trowa, "he is fascinated by the leg-shaving." Turning back to me he asked: "Do you mind waiting by the exit while we get changed?"

"No, I'd like to watch," I deadpanned, but already started towards the main exit.

I waited just outside, seated on a low concrete barrier that lined the steps. It was still quite a warm night, even though Fall was creeping into the atmosphere. Fifteen minutes of daydreaming later, Heero and Trowa emerged, completely dressed but their short hair still damp. We said goodbye to Trowa as he headed towards the parking lot to drive back to his small apartment downtown, closer to his facility. Heero and I slowly walked back to our dorm building, not having much to say so just enjoying the quiet and the crunching of our footfalls on the gravel and crushed seashell path.

"You're not going to back out of this Friday, right?" I started.

"No, don't worry. Besides, maybe you'll end up being right, it might be fun."

"Hell yeah! And the drinks are on me!"

He gave me a look. "I don't drink," he reminded me.

I blew some bangs out of my face with an exaggerated sigh. "Fine, fine, I'll get you a Shirley Temple." I laughed, even as I nearly fell on my ass when Heero roughly pushed me. On a different note, I commented sincerely: "We should hang out with Trowa more often, he's a cool guy."

"He is," Heero agreed, "but he is busy. Besides, any spare time that he has he prefers to spend with his boyfriend."

I nearly tripped on my own feet at that surprising tidbit of information. "Hold on, he's gay?"

"Yeah," was Heero's matter-of-fact response.

"Wow... I never knew. Never would have guessed."

"He doesn't really go around announcing it, but he is cool with it. Does it bother you?"

I shrugged, but paused and decided to give it some honest thought. I came to the conclusion that matched my initial instinct: "No. You?" It seemed like a legitimate question, not only because he had asked me, but also - if not: more importantly - because they shared a locker room twice a week like I did with the basketball team; a lot of nudity and no privacy.

"A little at first," he admitted. "But not anymore."

"Well, he could still hang out with us and with his boyfriend. We could double-date, everyone already calls you my girlfriend anyway," I joked, wincing when Heero punched my shoulder and didn't hold his strength back as much as he should - probably on purpose.

We reached our dorm building and dropped the topic as we walked inside, greeting the group of guys at the large dining table, eating pizzas and drinking beer, their usual diet. We were both offered to join them and considering our stomachs were growling and we didn't want to waste time defrosting and preparing our own meal, we gratefully joined them, picking slices of different pizzas. Luckily, they weren't drunk, so they weren't being assholes like they had before. The conversation was lighthearted and fun, occasionally making me laugh. Heero seemed more guarded, but was friendly and cooperative. No one got rubbed the wrong way to incite an argument.

Heero was one of the first to excuse himself after dinner, always having more studying to do. I stayed downstairs a little while longer, enjoying the jokes that were being passed around, being particularly interested in the bashing of coach Harford, as many of the guys at the table were part of the university's basketball team. We thoroughly discussed his lack of talent and leadership, shamelessly making fun of him. One of them even suggested losing games on purpose, just to piss him off.

While I did not agree with that approach, his comment highlighted the fundamental problem with coach Harford: we all hated him so much, we weren't motivated to win any games for him. Some of us, apparently, were even willing to sabotage the entire team just because he was such an asshole.

With that new insight, I went upstairs as well, eager to rest the weight of my body on the mattress.

I opened the door and found Heero sitting behind the desk, pouring over intricate looking schematics. The reflection of the single light visible in his dull, tired eyes.

"Hey, don't you think you've done enough for today?" I asked softly as it appeared he was half asleep in his chair.

He only groaned in response and moved his hands to rub his eyes.

"Come on..." I pulled his chair away from the desk and while he sat back, slumped like a bag of potatoes, I neatly gathered all his papers and slipped them into the folder from which thy had come. With a frown I caught a glimpse of a few drawings buried underneath the technical diagrams. They were obviously the designs he had been working on for his current course, but with an inward wince I noted how crude they were, certainly not a reflection of his talent in other fields. They wouldn't fail him on the basis of the drawings, but he wasn't going to get the A+ he had grown so used to these past years.

"I know, they suck," he grumbled, making a weak attempt to take the papers from me to stop me from looking at them.

I held them out of his reach. He was too tired to get out of his chair and reach for them. "I'm not going to lie, they need some work," I commented, being careful with my phrasing. "The basic idea is good," I noted honestly, "but..." I didn't really know how to break the news to him that apparently he wasn't good at everything. It would likely come as an unwelcome shock to him.

But my lack of words and his own concerns were enough to alert him. He groaned and leaned forward, resting his forehead on the surface of the desk.

I slid them into the folder and put the folder in his desk drawer. "Heero, why didn't you just ask for help? Jesus, dude, you've spent hours every week helping me with my mathematical courses for the past three years. Did you really think I wouldn't return the favor?"

He looked up at me quizzically.

Bemused, I shook my head. "I can help you draw up designs," I explained to my exhausted friend. "You can explain your design ideas to me and together we can refine them and draw some kick-ass art to go with the basic schematics."

"Won't that be cheating?"

"Why? Don't real world engineers ever call on the help of designers and artists? Doesn't mean they aren't good at their job. Come on, let me help you."

"Thanks," he simply sad. His ego was obviously a little dented, having to rely on anyone's help, but I was certain he figured the same thing I did, that it was better to get a good grade with a little help than to receive a meager grade for his own, unassisted efforts. There was nothing wrong with asking for help; I had long succumbed to that notion and didn't feel any less about myself for needing it.

With that settled we both got ready for bed. I was actually excited at the opportunity to repay Heero for everything he had done for me. I wouldn't be graduating at the end of the year if it wasn't for his help. I did have to admit that feelings of guilt started to emerge, knowing that by pestering him into accompanying me to a club, I would be pulling him away from his work. But I felt confident that with my help he could spare a few hours, maybe we could even make going out a weekly thing.

Two days later it was Friday and I was looking forward to the evening. Mostly, I realized, because I just wanted to hang out with my friend, not necessarily on the look out for ladies. With Heero so busy, we hardly did stuff together. I supposed that, in this final year, I was more motivated to leave a lasting impression on him, make a mark on our friendship, make it unforgettable. That was so silly and overemotional, but regardless, it was the truth.

We shared an early dinner - Heero's turn to cook - and after our meal he went upstairs to get a little bit of studying done and I jumped into the shower, taking my time with my hair that oftentimes got neglected during the quick showers after practice. On my way back to our room, with just a towel around my waist, I stopped by Nash's room to verify the address of the club he had recommended. He assured me that we just had to follow the main street after getting off the train; a short, three minute walk. With a wink he wished me good luck but then ruined the brotherly moment we were sharing by mentioning that there was a gay club right around the corner and Heero and I might be more comfortable blending into that crowd.

Most guys I knew drew up their eyebrows at my friendship with Heero. But I didn't see anything weird about it. Granted, I didn't have any reference for comparison because I never had a friend like Heero or a brother, but it felt right, so how could it be wrong? I figured they were just being jackasses and that the unoriginal gay-joke was the best they could come up with.

I got dressed in my favorite pair of black jeans and a black, silk shirt, one of the few nice articles of clothing I owned. Everything else - all the cheap cotton and washed out denim - a 'fuck you' to the old man. I sat down on Heero's bed to put on my shoes and then rolled up my sleeves because it made the shirt a little less formal-looking. Then I had to pry Heero away from his laptop and get him to get dressed.

I lay down on his bed, even as he reminded me how much he disliked that. "Yeah yeah, rainstorms and pineapples, I know. Just get over yourself." I buried my face in the pillow and commented with a scrunched up face: "Wow, and you say I stink."

He threw a shirt at me that didn't make the cut as he tried to decide on what to wear. "I don't stink." It almost sounded like a question, like my comment had caused him doubt.

He didn't stink. He smelled fresh and citrus-y. I didn't tell him though, the thought of it alone made me feel awkward.

"What is a wingman even supposed to wear?" he wondered, shoulders-deep into his half of the closet.

"As long as you don't look better than me," I shot back jokingly, turning around to lie on my back.

"Oh, ouch, I'm not sure how to achieve that."

I reached out my hand and gave the closet door a rough push, so it swung around and hit his shoulder.

He retreated his head out of the closet to scowl at me.

I didn't interfere as he got dressed, suddenly feeling a little uncomfortable in a single shirt that likely cost more than his entire wardrobe. I hoped it wouldn't make him feel self-conscious.

It didn't take him long to get dressed. He selected a pair of dark, fitting jeans and a faded, long sleeved, blue/grey shirt with three buttons at the top, which I had him all undo to 'woo the ladies' as I put it.

When he stepped into his only pair of shoes - other than his running shoes - namely his beat up sneakers, I knew I soon would have to find a way to convince him to let me buy him a new pair.

With our coats draped over our shoulders because outside the air had yet to be cooled by the lack of sunlight, we walked over to the subway and got on the train that went directly to the train station across town. We made it just in time to catch our train.

"This seems like as good a place as any." I promptly sat down in one of two seats away from most of the other passengers.

Heero sat down next to me on the narrow, cramped bench.

During the twenty minute ride we talked mostly about school, settling on some quick brainstorming for Heero's project. We hadn't had much time to work on it yet, but it really drew me in and I found it very interesting. The objective was for him to invent a plausible, futuristic aerospace machine, do research on existing and developing technology, draw technical schematics - or blueprints - of the design and add a few drawings offering a more visual, artistic dimension to the finished design.

His idea was to make war machines of the future, to replace tanks as well as fighter jets. He talked enthusiastically of what he called "Gundams", which he couldn't describe more aptly than "big, humanoid robots" and he figured that there would be different kinds, for different purposes. His focus was on a particular design - a specific "Gundam" - that could transform from its humanoid form into something more aerodynamic. This was the design he had chosen to elaborate on for his final project. Even though his creative aesthetic vision and his verbalization of it was limited, I was instantly inspired and we shot ideas back and forth, making the twenty minutes pass quickly.

Too quickly, I realized, when I was somewhat disappointed when the announcer notified that the next stop would be Jameston.

We got off and followed Nash's directions. As promised, we quickly found ourselves standing in front of the entry of a booming club, the music that poured through the walls reverberated in our chests.

Heero seemed hesitant, but I pulled him inside. We checked our coats and then headed into the main area, a large space with high ceilings and mesh walkways, suspended lights created an interesting show of colors and rhythmic flashes. In the back was the long, stretching bar that was completely painted white and glowed with a purple, bluish hue under the black lights. The entire space was filled with people dressed scantily, jumping and grinding to the beat of the overpowering music.

I dragged Heero through the crowd of people to get us a drink first.

"Hi, can I get a beer and a water?" I had to practically scream my order at the bartender. I ordered a beer because I didn't want to get too drunk and force Heero to carry me home by the end of the night. The water was for Heero of course;it made the bartender frown, but he complied anyway and soon our drinks appeared on the bar before us.

"Cheers!" I knocked my bottle of beer against his glass of water.

The second bottle of beer soon followed. I was a little nervous and unsure of how to proceed. The answer literally came to me when an attractive young woman seated herself on the empty stool next to me, with slow, seductive movements and confidently said: "You can buy me a drink if you want." She crossed her legs and made her foot touch the back of my leg. Her gaze was focused intently on me, it was a bit unnerving, but nice at the same time in a shiver-down-my-spine kind of way.

"Sure, what would you like?"

"How about we both take a shot of tequila, that way, whatever happens, we'll sure have fun tonight."

'Wowza', that was about as eloquent as my thought process was at that moment. "Bartender, two shots of tequila please."

The shot glasses were promptly placed in front of us.

We simultaneously downed our drinks in a single gulp and when I looked at her again she had a sensual smile on her face. "Are you here alone?"

"Uh... no, no! I'm here with my friend, Heero." I turned around to gesture at Heero, who was sitting on a stool on the other side of me, looking characteristically disinterested.

He raised his hand in a halfhearted wave, the best she was going to get from him.

"Hi! Wow, you guys are really cute. How come I've never seen you guys here before?"

"We're not really from around here, we live on campus at the university."

She purred in delight. "Cute and smart?"

"How about you?"

"How about me, what?"

I inwardly grimaced, it was kind of hard to have a conversation with such loud music. "Do you study or do you work?"

"Work!" she answered curtly, she clearly hadn't come over for a meaningful conversation and I realized I shouldn't pursue that either. "Do you want to dance?"

I looked back at Heero apologetically, feeling incredibly guilty now for dragging him along as I was about to ditch him by the bar.

'Go' he mouthed. He was probably just eager for me to get my rocks off and get a couple of phone numbers so he wouldn't ever have to go out with me again.

'Sorry' I mouthed back and then the woman insistently tugged at my arm, beckoning me to join her on the dance floor. Only then did it occur to me I didn't even know her name. So whilst dancing - doing nothing that even resembled Heero's imitations of my dance moves... I hoped - I introduced myself and asked for her name, just trying to be polite and ease the uncomfortable feeling in my gut that what I was aiming for was morally wrong.

"Ayana," she said, like it was the sexiest word in the world.

We continued to dance to the upbeat song that was remixed by the DJ, but whereas she offered me her full attention, I could not return the same focus, distracted by the alien feeling of having this young woman grind her hips against mine even though a few minutes earlier, she hadn't even bothered with an introduction. Maybe Heero was right - he certainly always turned out to be right about everything else. Maybe, at the heart of my problems, was the fact that I am a bit of a romantic myself, looking for that one person that is going to make me feel loved and make me open myself up to new, wonderful feelings. Even with her rocking her hips almost sinfully and licking her lips and flipping her hair whenever I dared to look up at her predatory face, I couldn't help but be disappointed at the lack of feeling that was evoked in me. Really, the only feeling that was stirred awake was centered in my pants. Other than that, I just felt deflated and surprisingly eager to remove myself from the situation.

I had not expected that, after all, she was offering me exactly what I had come looking for.

As it turned out, I was in no shape or form the stud that I always presumed myself to be.

Another point for Heero. I'd lost track of the score long ago.

I inconspicuously tried to look around myself, trying to see through the crowd and spot my friend. Instead, I found a different familiar face, a very unwelcome sight. I instantly froze and became completely detached from the situation I was in.

"Do you know her?" Ayana questioned impatiently as she caught me staring at this girl across the room.

"I thought I did," I muttered in response and my stomach twisted when she started towards me, trailed by that psycho bitch. "Hilde, what the fuck are you doing here?" I demanded to know as soon as she was in earshot.

"What are you doing here?" she shot back and then gave Ayana a foul look. "Duo, what are you doing? Are you seriously just going to troll clubs and bars now, for sex? Why can't you just give 'us' another try? We had it good! Now you are punishing me for a single mistake by sleeping around?"

Ayana made a face as she realized what kind of situation she had found herself in. She excused herself and was then quick to leave us be.

I let out a bitter chuckle. "You know, some murderers have only made one mistake - one kill - should they not suffer the consequences just because it was a one-time-thing?"

"I didn't kill anybody, Duo," she argued.

"Well, all things considered, it comes pretty close to murder if you ask me! You are just like Relena," I gestured at the girl to her right, with her hand on her hip, looking all high and mighty. "You are both psychotic bitches! Just because in the end, nothing went catastrophically wrong, you think it's okay? You think we should just forgive you?" So caught up my emotions as all memories and feelings rushed back to me, I continued to scream at her: "Hilde, I almost quit my education for you! I almost got disowned for you! I lost one of my best friends because of you!"

I gasped when I suddenly felt a soothing hand on my shoulder and Heero's voice calling my name over the loud music, urging me to calm down. I came to my senses and when I blinked the red blur out of my eyes my heart sank at Hilde's devastated face and the trails of tears running down her cheeks.

"I didn't want any of that!" she sobbed and then she pivoted on her heels and stormed out, followed by Relena who gave me one last foul look.

"Are you okay?" Heero asked, when I didn't speak or move for a long time.

"I need a drink," I said hoarsely and determinedly walked back to the bar. Unbelievable, I thought as I demandingly ordered a strong drink; she was the one to screw me over, yet I ended up feeling guilty. Of course it didn't help that before we started dating, we had just been good friends, and as her former friend, I couldn't help but sympathize with her. At the same time, as her ex-boyfriend who suffered her lies and deceit and all the consequences, I was bitter, angry and hateful and feeling like I had every right to be.

It wasn't long before I ordered my second, then my third, then my fourth strong drink, drinking like it was water and I had just crawled out of the desert.

I was thankful Heero allowed me to get stinking drunk, an overt look of empathy on his features as he watched me down drink after drink, occasionally ordering a water for himself. Eventually he informed me that we would have to go if we wanted to make the last train back. Before helping me outside, he fished my wallet out of my pocket - causing me some very unmanly giggles - and paid our tab.

The entire trip home was a meaningless blur, though I did distinctly notice that my knees started to hurt really badly at one point, apparently after I had stumbled out of Heero's grip and fell to the pavement at the train station.

Back at the dorm building, the stairs were challenging but strong arms around me guided and supported me.

I started to feel very lonely. Feeling incredibly sorry for myself that I had never experienced the love of my father nor my mother, and had never known the joy of being in love. Was it so hard to find that person that made you feel safe and warm and loved? How could that be so hard, shouldn't every single individual innately be capable of this, as a human being?

I heavily leaned back against the door that was closed behind me.

"Oh, god, no way I'm going to get you in that top bunk," a nice voice said.

I felt a presence close in on me, warm and soothing. Hands suddenly gripped my sides as I momentarily lost my equilibrium.

"Can I trust you to remain standing?" that smooth voice coming from the darkness asked.

"Hmmm..." any attempt at a coherent response was futile.

The hands moved to the top button of my shirt. From there on nimble fingers popped one button at a time and I felt warm breath against my chest as it was exposed. At the urging of the hands I leaned slightly forward and a silky fabric was slipped off my shoulders. I leaned back against the door with a pleasant sigh.

"Put your hand on my shoulder."

I obediently did what the voice said.

Then, the presence kneeled in front of me and the warm hands returned, one gripped the back of my calf and lifted my leg and the other took off my shoes and socks. The process was repeated for the other foot. When the presence rose, I kept my hand on the shoulder, stroking my thumb back and forth to feel warm skin underneath thin, soft fabric. Slightly strengthening my grip, I pulled the body closer and sighed again when I felt legs against my own and a splayed hand against my chest that stubbornly kept our upper bodies separated.

"What are you doing?" The voice sounded both amused and mildly concerned.

I leaned forward instinctively, but to my dismay I was met with nothing. The hand and the legs disappeared, I lost my grip on the shoulder.

"Come on, Casanova, lets get you in bed before you molest me."

I was pretty sure my actual name was not Casanova. But not entirely.

Then all of a sudden I was laying down in a bed, my head comfortably supported on a pillow that smelled of citrus and... something else, something nice.

There was nothing between that realization and the blistering headache to which I awoke.


	5. Chapter 5

**Thousand Words**

**Five**

I have had a lot of post-alcoholic-intake-doozies in the past, but each time I think 'surely it can't get any worse', it does just that and there is nothing to do but accept the ripe smell of my own vomit and the cold of the bathroom tile as I kneel in front of the toilet seat. That is, if I even make it to the bathroom.

That time I did. I didn't think I was ever quite that fast, might have broken land-speed records on the way as I dashed from our upstairs bedroom to the downstairs bathroom, located annoyingly far in situations like that. As always, I promised myself "I'm never drinking again" and then flushed the latest batch of repeat-dinner.

"Dude," an amused voice said from the doorway.

I slowly turned my head, fearing that any sudden movements would just nauseate me more, with undesired results. I spotted Nash with nothing short of a gloat on his face, leaning against the doorpost, dressed only in loose pajama bottoms.

"You don't look so hot," he commented, barely containing explosive laughter.

"Your empathy is much appreciated," I croaked in response, slowly turning my body and setting my ass down on the floor, I stayed close to the toilet.

"Well, excuse me that my morning spirit was somewhat dampened when I went down for breakfast and this stench hit my nostrils." He demonstratively pinched his nose shut and made a face. "Where's the misses? Isn't he supposed to hold your hair back in situations like this?" He asked with nasally voice as he kept his fingers pinched over his nose.

"In bed?"

He shook his head. "Not there."

I shrugged and relaxed against the bathroom wall, feeling my stomach settle down. "Then he's probably out for his morning run."

"It's unnatural. That guy is not normal."

"Who is?" I wondered quasi-philosophically. "Wait," I focused my gaze back on Nash, heavily hooded by a deep frown, "Am I having a stroke or is your hair blue?"

He let go of his nose and used both hands to smooth the wayward strands of his electric blue hair. "Did it last night, you like it?"

"Oh, so that's the blue stuff I saw in the sink. Thought someone might have killed a smurf..."

"I would never do that. Subject it to cruel and unusual torture maybe, but not kill." He flashed me a smirk. "But you don't like it?" He touched his hair again.

"I don't know, I like it as much as I liked it fire engine red or duckling yellow I suppose."

"Or baby pink?" He reminded me with a crooked grin.

"No," I retorted dryly. "I actually like this less than the pink, it was a good color on you." I chuckled but it evolved into a cough and prompted me to kneel in front of the toilet again, but my stomach was empty and all I got were aching, dry coughs.

"You make it so easy to dislike you..." he commented.

"Do you mind? Can't a guy dry-heave in peace anymore?"

"You mind sharing the events that lead up to this unfortunate, intimate encounter between you and the world's most unhygienic bathroom? I mean, the date on the last cleaning schedule is October of last year..."

I coughed more. "Thanks for that," I managed.

"Come on, tell me. You puking means one of two things. Either your night went extraordinarily magnificent or epically apocalyptic. Spill."

I glared at him. "I think I just did." I nodded back at the toilet.

Nash rolled his eyes. "I need words, not chunks of yesterday's lunch."

I stumbled to my feet and opened the water faucet, washing my hands, rinsing my mouth and then repeatedly splashing water in my face. "You're disgusting," I informed him, but accepted the hand towel he held out to me. "Besides, what's with the curiosity?"

Nash shrugged innocently. "No reason, just doing a follow-up, considering I'm the one who pointed you to the club. From my experience, the girls there are always super hot. Did you see someone you liked?"

"I thought I did," an exotic face came to mind, tanned skin, dark, almond shaped eyes and glossy hair. Ayana, I remembered, after an embarrassing search for her name. "It didn't really turn out the way I had expected it would." I wasn't just referring to Hilde's emotional interruption. The night played through my head and I distinctly remembered feeling a sense of emptiness and dissatisfaction, even as the beautiful Ayana was dancing seductively with me, giving off signals I knew well and knew what to do with. But I didn't do what I thought I would and I suspected that even without Hilde barging in, the night would not have gone according to plan.

At my contemplative silence, Nash persisted: "Someone ruined it for you?"

Someone not something? How did he jump to that conclusion? I frowned and snapped my head to look at him suspiciously. "What do you mean?" A sudden question popped up in my head: How did Hilde find me at that club? To write it off as a coincidence was too much of a stretch. An image flashed before me. Hilde had been wearing old jeans and a baggy university T-shirt that I knew her to often prefer as nightwear. She was not dressed for a night out. It dawned on me that Relena hadn't been either, who was definitely not the kind of girl to go out looking anything less than perfectly groomed and dressed. Her hair was even messy, how could he not have noticed that?

"Dude?"

"Hilde showed up," I said, to gauge his reaction.

Nash didn't look surprised in the least, as suspected.

I closed the distance between us and gave him a rough push against his chest. He tripped over the threshold of the bathroom and fell on his ass in the carpeted hallway. I accusingly pointed down out at him as I stood over him. "You told Hilde where Heero and I had gone! You probably talked her into coming after me. That's why you're digging for details? To get a laugh out of it?" I spat.

Nash started laughing sheepishly, holding up his hands in surrender. "Come on man, it was just some innocent messing about!"

"Unbelievable! Let me guess: your idea of making this year memorable?"

He crawled back to create a safe distance and then rose to his feet. "It was just a joke man, I thought that I might even be doing you a favor in the process. What the fuck happened?"

"What the fuck do you think happened? Only two options right? Extraordinarily magnificent or epically apocalyptic. I'll give you a hint: it wasn't the former!" If I were a cartoon character smoke would be coming out of my ears and I would have long dropped an oversized anvil on his stupidly blue head.

Of course, always there to talk sense into me, Heero appeared, as if he knew I was about to get myself into trouble. He stood in the doorway of the front door, lifting up his headphones that blasted loud, indiscriminate music and he simply called my name, a slight tone of surprise in his voice as he raised his eyebrows at the strange tableau he had walked in on.

I was about to reach out and grab a handful of Nash's T-shirt, to hold him in place while I would let my fists do the talking, but Heero distracted me. Seeing him, I almost felt embarrassed for acting so rashly, so childishly. By the time I looked back Nash was gone and I turned in time to see him cowering out the back door, barefoot. He may be sensible enough to be momentarily intimated by me, but I knew he would make no apologies for his actions, nor experience any guilt. There wouldn't be justice, only the fear that he would just pull another stunt like that. I glared at Heero, my outer-body-conscience, who casually walked further into the hall. He held on to the banister of the winding staircase as he stretched his legs, holding his feet by the ankle and pulling them up to his ass. For whatever reason, it was distracting.

I shook my head. "You should have let me punch him at least once," I grumbled, feeling deflated at having my prey escape my wrath.

He rolled his eyes and started upstairs.

I followed him, needing someone to exercise my frustration on.

Once in our room, he started undressing, matter-of-factly reminding me: "You were the one who thought he was a good guy, underneath all the crap. You defended him."

"Well, you don't really feel like standing up for someone when your knee deep in their crap."

"So what did he do?" He opened the closet for a towel and a fresh set of clothes.

"He told Hilde where we went, I suspect he did nothing short of sending her after me, Hilde is a lot of thing, but she is not a drama queen, she doesn't generally make a scene like that. I should have known it was too big of a coincidence that they just ran into us," I grumbled. "You don't seem surprised," I observed with a frown.

"Should I be surprised that Nash ill-advisedly interfered with someone-else's life?" Even with his back turned towards me, I could exactly envision the expression he would have on his face.

"Guess not..."

"Did you puke on my bed?" Heero suddenly asked over his shoulder, very much annoyed, scrunching up his face as he sniffed the air.

"No!"

"Well, it stinks in here."

"Oh, that's me. I think I got some on my pants." At one point I remembered stupidly wiping my mouth with my hand, realizing my mistake I had quickly wiped my palm over my pant leg, before continuing to vomit.

He looked at me with a disgusted face, slightly frustrated too. We've had this discussion. He thought I shouldn't drink, because time and again it has been proven that I did not hold my liquor well. We didn't even pretend to agree to disagree. We had broken it down to a glare on his behalf, and me rolling my eyes. Most of the time.

"Please hold the judgment mister I'll-have-a-glass-of-water," I spat when he held the disapproving glare inappropriately long.

"Still, my sheets better be changed by the end of the day. And you are going to wash them."

"Yes, mother."

He looked back at me and deadpanned: "I really don't get what everyone sees in you. You are not nearly the Casanova everyone takes you for."

My eyes narrowed. 'Casanova' rung in my ears. He had called me that before. When? Our little marital argument forgotten, I ran through the memories that survived the onslaught of alcohol, narrowing it down to late last night, which was still mostly a blur to me after I successfully drowned my sorrows, if only momentarily. I wondered: "What happened last night? You know, after the temporary - alcohol induced - insanity set in?"

Heero first turned his back to me again to slip out of his underwear and tie a towel around his waist. Upon completion of the task he turned back to me - he, too, had forgotten we were arguing - and asked cryptically in response: "Why? What does it matter?"

"You called me Casanova last night too, I was just curious." Seeing as I could use a shower myself, I maneuvered past him to reach the closet and got a towel myself. We usually stuck to a bathroom schedule, but it was still relatively early - ungodly early in the universe of college men on a Saturday morning - so I was confident both bathrooms would be unoccupied.

"Nothing unusual, you just get handsy when your drunk, I may have made some Casanova-remark in response to that," Heero dryly commented, then could no longer contain his comical expression. "It's really quite funny. You know, until you get pukey."

I ignored his little sidebar and blurted: "Handsy?" Surely that didn't mean what I thought it meant...

"Yes, handsy and... uhm... emotionally verbal. You even proposed to me after that rave last spring break."

His smirking mouth kept moving, surely sharing with me the exact kind of information that I would generally find highly amusing, more so if it referred to someone else's drunken stupor, but I could handle a healthy dose self-mockery. Still, I held my hands up and interrupted what was undoubtedly a memorable anecdote and asked him again: "Handsy?" I felt a shiver go down my spine and goosebumps spread across my arms when the skin on my chest remembered the feel of warm breath.

What the fuck happened?

Heero, correctly interpreting the rampage of disturbing thoughts going through me, was quick to exclaim: "Oh God no!" Then he laughed, a little uncomfortably at first, but he relaxed. "Trust me, I kept your hands away from any area that would be grounds for a law-suit. Or murder." He joked dryly. He snorted and then started for the door.

Not reassured yet, I grabbed his arm and pulled him back into our small dorm room, closing the door after suspiciously looking up and down the hall. "I need you to tell me what happened precisely," I emphasized the last word. "Or else I might go crazy thinking up all the worrisome alternatives you have left me with."

Heero seemed to grow impatient with me, probably thinking to himself that if I would just stop drinking, he wouldn't have had to go through that embarrassing conversation with me. "When you're drunk you just have the habit of being physical, I don't know how else to put it. And I just happen to be there, because I have to drag your drunk ass home each time." He finished with a wise-ass grin.

"You don't get it, I need a step-by-step narration of what happened last night. This is going to drive me insane," I ended with a desperate whisper.

Heero adamantly objected.

But he never stood a chance. I bugged him like only I could, pressing buttons of which only I was aware they existed. His expression became increasingly annoyed until it finally broke past his lips, leaving a red hue on his cheeks.

"You tried to kiss me!"

"The fuck!" was my immediate reaction.

"Look, nothing happened," he tried to appease, "I handled it. I know how to handle you when you're stinking drunk. Over the course of nearly three and a half years, I've certainly done it often enough to have gained adequate experience."

This was all baffling to me. Very little of the experiences I had had under the extreme influence of alcohol ever returned to me. Blissfully so, apparently. Could you blame a guy for being shocked and curious? I had to know more. "So what? This is like a normal occurrence, me trying to kiss you?"

He rolled his eyes, really uncomfortable now. "No, typically it's just you basically hanging off me, firing off the usual speech of why nobody loves you and then you get into this whole thing of telling me you love me. And sometimes your hands wander or you lean in a little. It's annoying really." He tried to alleviate the situation with a forced smile, but I wasn't having it.

"Wandering hands? Leaning in?" To say I was shocked was a gross understatement.

"I really don't want to get into all of this. It's pointless. You're not yourself when you drink. That is why I hate it when you do."

"'Wine gives a man nothing, it only puts in motion what had been locked up in frost.' Samuel Johnson said that."

Heero groaned. "You and your fucking electives. What are you even saying? That you want to kiss me?" He tried to laugh it off, but the sound betrayed his nervousness and the awkwardness of the situation.

"Shit! Of course not man, I'm not a homo!" I defended fiercely, even though Heero was just paraphrasing what I had inadvertently been saying. Something that I didn't want to say, didn't even want to think about and hadn't, until just then.

Heero sighed. "From what I can tell, alcohol just makes people do stupid stuff, without it meaning anything. Look, maybe you didn't lean in to kiss me, maybe you just lost balance. And maybe that's why you get so physical, to hold on to something." He trailed off, not really invested in the argument, it came out unconvinced. He looked at me with a frown. "I'm really surprised at you," his tone was... disappointed. "I thought it would have just made you laugh, why are you taking this so seriously?" More quietly, he continued: "I wasn't trying to mock you or anything, if that's what the problem is."

That added guilt to the flabbergasted. The feeling grounded me. "I know. I'm sorry, dude. You're right, it's just stupid. It's funny really."

"Right." Heero agreed and dared a smile to lift me up.

"Right." I mirrored, though lacking conviction.

He gave me a playful punch against my shoulder and then announced he would be taking a shower and then he left me alone, alone with my thought. I was all geared up to head to the bathroom myself, but I needed some space and all of a sudden I was uncomfortable with the sight of Heero's bare chest and the knowledge that he was nude underneath the low-riding towel and it didn't seem right following him downstairs.

The news had come as a shock to me. A strike to my pride. As I calmed down, I realized how much I had overreacted, but still couldn't shake the uneasy feeling. I didn't for a second believe that it meant anything serious, like that I was secretly in love with Heero; all kinds of gay feelings closeted up inside me or something. It was just strange to be made aware that in contrast with the difficulty that I had to be intimate with girls, it was so easy to be - inappropriately - intimate with Heero.

Maybe we had gotten too close and it was getting to me, the guys called him my wife after all. Or maybe Heero's insane sexual mojo, that attracted all kinds of girls, had an effect on me to. Neither gave me any peace of mind, so I pushed both thoughts aside and decided to trust Heero's judgment, I usually did. If he had been dealing with this behavior for years and he was never bothered by it, then how could it possibly be anything to get worked up about? I supposed it really didn't mean anything. And both Heero and I aren't very good with words, a lot probably got lost in translation and if I would remember the instances, it would probably make me laugh. After all, when Nash got drunk, he climbed on tables and danced with his jeans pulled down his ass cheeks and had the other guys stuff dollar bills into the front of his pants. None of us ever thought anything of that. I guessed I had just been looking for a different kind of drama, to replace the drama I had had with Hilde, which was just too much, too confusing for me to deal with.

I went downstairs and knocked on the locked door of the second bathroom, where I heard the shower running.

"Occupied! I'll try to hurry!" Heero called back from under the spray, thinking it was someone needing to use the bathroom.

"No, Heero it's me!" I paused, leaning my head against the door, feeling silly now for the way I had reacted. "I just wanted to apologize for being such a humorless dick!"

"That's an apology three years too late! But I'll take it!"

I chuckled. "Thanks, asshole!" I pushed off the door, feeling better, and disappeared into the first bathroom for a leisure shower, to wash all of last night off me. By the time I was done and got back upstairs, Heero had left for the day. Studying, meeting up with the other members of the chess club and later in the day Trowa would pick him up and they would drive to the lake for some freestyle training. They always did that when an important swim meet was drawing near. I knew he wouldn't be home till I would have to start work at the on campus bar.

I looked forward to the evening, I thoroughly enjoyed my job there. Fridays and Saturdays were the Senior days, only seniors, aged twenty-one and older, were allowed in, meaning we could serve alcohol, as opposed to the other evenings, when the younger crowd prohibited alcohol service and I was forced to mixing shirley temples and pouring coca cola and 7-up. Needless to say, the weekends were a lot more fun.

After changing the sheets on Heero's bed, I settled in for a day of mild studying, something that I quickly grew bored with and abandoned for the benefit of some online porn - my usual Saturday afternoon treat - and then falling asleep to the screaming and guitar abuse of a rock concert on DVD, my laptop still sitting atop me as I drifted off. After a quick, two day old take-out meal - I had to fight a junior for the biggest slice - I headed to work, dressed in my bartender 'uniform': black slacks and a black button-up shirt.

It was still early. The atmosphere reminiscent of a saloon in the old west. Students sitting in clusters at the tables, talking quietly, nursing a beer, looking up at, and discussing, every newcomer that would walk through the doors. I was happy to spot Obie behind the bar, I was always happy realizing we would share a shift.

"Hey man." We bumped our fists together in our usual greeting.

"What's up, man? Where were you yesterday, you know I don't like to work with Martin, he's no good on the weekend shift."

I shrugged, not particularly apologetic. I was mostly the one to get stuck with Martin, during the weekdays. It was fine with me to share the misery. "Went out, with Heero."

"Well, duh. So what, dinner and a movie?" He laughed as he evaded my right hook.

"To a club in Jameston. A straight club, might I add, before you make a pun." I lined up glasses in preparation for the expected Saturday crowd and rearranged the alcohol bottles on the back wall that got put in the wrong place by Martin the day before, making it for difficult for us to find specific spirits.

"Any hot girls I should know of?"

"Yeah, her name is Jenny, it says so on the inside of that corny wedding ring of yours," I deadpanned, hiding a smirk from him.

Obie chuckled, but argued: "Don't knock it man. At least I don't have to troll clubs anymore or invest in a relationship that isn't going to work out. Or go to bed with someone and realize the next day that she's not that pretty when I'm sober."

I sighed and slowly nodded. "You're right. To be honest, I'm jealous." I was surprised by my own honesty.

Obie looked at me with wide eyes, his hand became motionless around the wine glass he had been rubbing dry. "You?"

"Yeah, so what?"

He shrugged. "Well, excuse me, but aren't you the guy that has dated nearly every girl in this school, all very short-lived relationships? That's not so much looking for true love as it is a catch-and-release program. I mean girl, after girl, after girl, after girl-"

"I get it," I interrupted him.

"Alright. Just know that they see it too."

"They?"

"The girls. One of them maybe the one you are looking for. They see it too, they know you are a player. Sure, they think that they can change you, but they don't see you as the guy who is... looking. Maybe that is why you attract girls that are gone after a week or two. Because the real great catches, the ones you wouldn't throw back, aren't drawn in by that reputation."

"Hm." A deep frown formed as I thought that over. "You really think so?"

He continued to dry the glass. "Yeah, maybe. I'm no expert, but Jenny said that she only started to notice me after I had given up on reeling in cheerleaders." He looked up with a crooked smile.

"Hm, idiotic fishing references aside, that's a very interesting point."

"Look, don't put too much stock in what in I say, I don't want to be responsible for anything going awry. What do I know anyway? It just seems logical to me that the girls that are really looking for something serious, looking for a proper, nice guy, aren't drawn to a guy that recycles girls. I mean, just look at Heero."

Hearing his name in the context surprised me. "What do you mean?"

Obie snorted. "Well, you know about the thing he has going on in the library, right?"

"Since recently, yeah," I admitted, curious where this was going.

He looked a little hesitant, aware of how close Heero and I were, he was obviously afraid of offending Heero and consequently angering me, but he decided to confide in me, in a low whisper: "Jenny says some of the girls who have heard of it are really horrible about it. Not to his face of course, who would dare? But behind his back. They're calling him a slut. One of them even talked to principal Andrews about it. Of course he doesn't feel inclined to do anything, thankfully, probably thought it was funny. But they presented it as a public health issue. That's pretty serious man. No one but Relena really likes him. He's been here over three years and has never dated."

"He doesn't want to date," I defended, still processing the news that people had been calling Heero a slut. It really angered me.

"What, he doesn't want to find love? He wants to be alone?" Obie questioned skeptically.

"He's busy."

"Good thing then, I guess. Because a guy who treats sex as something that casual, might scare off precisely that one girl who would be right for him."

To break the heavy conversation, I joked: "God, you've been married for only a few weeks and you've already gone soft and sappy."

Obie didn't laugh, having found love himself had apparently made him deeply aware of the importance of it. To see to his friends potentially screw up the chance to find someone to love seemed to genuinely concern him.

The first loud group of students came through the door, ending our conversation. I was busy all through the night, serving people drinks and lightheartedly flirting with some girls, making them laugh and blush, prying more drinks and tips out of them. At the end of the evening I had two of my teammates who had come for a game of pool, safely escort them back to their dorm rooms and called a cab for a guy that had been sitting by himself at a corner table with ten empty shot glasses in front of him, hoping the cab driver could recognize an address in his slurred speech.

I had been too busy to give my talk with Obie too much thought, but on the stroll back to dorm building B, it replayed in my head. I didn't know if he was right, but I could not deny the obvious logic. It reaffirmed the realization that I remembered having the night before. That the whole casual sex thing with a different girl every time wasn't for me. It didn't make me feel good about myself and, understandably, it didn't make girls feel good about me either. Heero should probably be made aware of this fact as well, even though he insisted he wasn't even interested in girls. Certainly he didn't want a couple of girls calling him names behind his back? I wished Obie had told me who they were, so that I could go talk some sense into them. But he probably didn't know, and it was probably for the best anyway, such a thing could only escalate from bad to worse.

It did leave me with somewhat of an issue though. Of course technically I could live without sex, but what guy of my age would voluntarily chose to do so? Sex, if done right, was fun and relaxing and after my brief attempt at a human biology elective the first year, I was convinced it was necessary for a healthy mental balance. But even though I was genuinely disinterested in a romantic relationship at the time, after having been broken by Hilde, and being more invested in having a carefree, fun - last - year with Heero, picking up girls in clubs wasn't as easy as I thought it was. It was easy to do - without wanting to blow smoke up my own ass, I could safely judge I was quite a good-looking guy - but it wasn't easy to be at peace with. I wasn't sure if I was disappointed in this character development, or proud of it. I supposed it didn't really matter but Obie's words kept resounding. I didn't want people to think of me as a player, or worse still, a slut. My father always said that college forms a person and maybe there was some truth to this. And if that were the case, I was adamant not to mold myself into that guy, that would scare off the one person I had always been looking for. That one person that would finally make me love and make me feel loved.

It was all very confusing and discouraging.

I found Heero sound asleep in his lower bunk, the sheets kicked away from him, his arms above his head, the fingers of one hand still loosely gripping a lock of messy hair that he must have been playing with when he fell asleep. I changed into my nightwear as quietly as possible, constantly checking to make sure that I hadn't awoken him. When my slacks slipped off the back of my desk chair and fell to the floor - rattling belt-buckle and all - I looked back to see his eyes had opened, moonlit blue orbs stared at me, a little confused at first.

"What time is it?" He asked tiredly, rubbing his eyes.

"Don't worry, it's late, not nearly time to wake up. Go back to sleep," I urged in soft voice. "Sorry," I added, realizing that going back to sleep wasn't an easy command to obey after being rudely awoken in the dead of night.

"It's okay. How was work?"

"It was just peachy, lovebird," I joked, the awkwardness of before forgotten.

He let out a low, tired chuckle.

"How's Trowa doing?" I asked as I finished getting changed.

"Still can't beat me, so his day sucked," he said with a smirk. "Other than that, he is fine, darling."

I smiled, climbing up to my top bunk. "Sorry I woke you. Go back to sleep. Goodnight, pumpkin."

I settled under the covers, shifting a couple of times to make myself more comfortable. I wasn't really tired, despite the hour; I had been drinking Red Bull all night to keep up with the demanding crowd at the bar. I closed my eyes, trying to force it.

"Goodnight, honey," was Heero belated, mumbled response, already half back to sleep.

My eyes flew open, my body suddenly tense.

I wouldn't find sleep during what remained of the night. Not because of the Red Bull. But because of a single, simple thing:

An idea.

'FWB'.


	6. Chapter 6

**Thousand Words**

**Six**

I didn't feel like I had gotten any sleep that night. I may have nodded off once or twice, but never long enough to enjoy any of the benefits of actual sleep.

The sun rose over the horizon and peeked through the crack in the curtain to illuminate my flabbergasted, well-fuck-me face. The idea had been tenacious, nibbling at my very being ever since it sprung to mind like a Jack in a box ejecting forward. I certainly felt like it mocked me, rocking back and forth with a challenging grin: Now that I'm here, what are you going to do about me? It had become apparent to me, over the course of the night, that it wasn't a simple matter of grabbing it by the head and forcing it back inside. The box had been opened and would not shut again, the contents just didn't seem to fit back in. It was very disturbing and very confusing. I couldn't quite figure out my thoughts or feelings, everything was mumbled and indiscriminate and incoherent. I felt like I was at a party and all kinds of different opinions and emotions crowded me, shouting at the top of their lungs to be heard, but in the violence, none of them was able to express themselves clearly.

Heero stirred on the lower bed, I could feel the slight movements, reverberating through my own mattress. I felt him fling his legs over the edge and get up.

In a state of thoughtless panic, I shut my eyes and feigned sleep. I felt a tension, like he was looking at me and my heart thudded because somehow I feared he would catch me in the act of 'faking it'. Faking it? I groaned inwardly as my thoughts started to wander down paths clearly marked: DO NOT CROSS! DO NOT ENTER! TRESPASSERS WILL BE SHOT! Or should be, at least...

"Were you jerking off again?"

Jesus! I sat upright at the sudden, deep sound of his voice and my wide-eyed gaze landed on his face, focusing on the one raised eyebrow.

At the confusion clearly indicated on my face, he explained: "You had that guilty, oh-God-don't-let-him-catch-me look on your face."

"I have no such look," I argued childishly.

He snorted, then warned - pointed finger and all: "You promised I would never have to see that again."

I started to laugh uncomfortably. Very uncomfortably. I couldn't explain it, but at that very moment my eyes decided to wander and my mind noted: he's practically naked.

Heero stood by the bed, his head slightly tilted, his shoulders relaxed, his arms by his side, dressed in only a grey pair of boxer-briefs. With an accusing expression he inquired: "You didn't get drunk on the job last night, did you?"

"I am happy to inform you that I came home entirely sober and am currently not hung over," I tried in my most convincing sarcastic tone, hoping not to evoke suspicion because secrets are poorly kept with a roommate as observant as Heero.

"Well, you look like something is disagreeing with you."

"Just now you said I had my guilty-face on," I pointed out.

He shrugged. "Your versatile."

Like top and bottom versatile? My eyes nearly popped out of my head at that unwanted thought. I covered my face with my hands to keep the orbs securely in place and let my weight drop back to the mattress. A nervous chuckle erupted out of me. I couldn't decide whether I was horrified or amused by my straying train of thought.

"What's so funny?" Heero innocently asked.

"Nothing." But then I laughed harder, almost hysterically.

Heero sighed impatiently and I could vividly imagine him putting his hands on his hips and glaring at me. "You're not normally in such a good mood if you're awake at this hour," he observed critically. "What's going on? If it's funny, you have an obligation, as my friend, to share your amusement."

"Trust me," I breathed between cackles, "you don't want to know." My laughter suddenly died out and I dropped my hands back to my sides.

Should I tell him? I asked myself, staring up at the ceiling with empty eyes as I focused inwardly on my thoughts. I guessed the real question was: should I take this idea seriously? Was it really something I wanted to consider? If it was, then obviously I should tell him, but I first had to decide for myself. I could laugh all I want, I couldn't easily brush it off, if I could, the thought wouldn't still be bothering me after a long night of pondering it over. If it really was as ridiculous as it seemed, it wouldn't still be on my mind.

And I wouldn't be looking down at Heero's crotch! Jesus!

Inadvertently my eyes had drifted away from the ceiling it appeared.

Luckily Heero didn't seem to be alarmed. The possibility that I had been ogling him was probably too preposterous for him to be concerned with.

"Never mind, dude," I assured him, "I just had a crazy dream, that's all."

He smiled and shook his head and then turned his attention to the closet, to get a fresh pair of shorts and a T-shirt.

As Heero prepared for his routinely morning run, I tried to ignore him, purposefully turning my back to him. But the sound of rustling clothes were like memory cues and with each sound I knew exactly what he was doing and could envision the movements of his body as I had seen him get changed a lot over these past few years.

Pushing down his underwear and stepping out of it. Throwing it onto his pile of laundry. Slipping into a new pair of boxer briefs. Pulling up his tight pair of black shorts. Reaching down the front of it and adjusting himself. Putting on his shirt, first his two arms through the sleeves, then his head through the opening. Finally: sitting down on his chair and tying his running shoes.

Heero must have figured that I had fallen asleep, because after grabbing his MP3-player from the desk he walked out the dorm room without saying goodbye.

I rolled onto my back. In spite of the sleepless night, I was not tired, the abundance of brain activity felt like a shot of caffeine straight into my nervous system. With Heero gone, I felt more confident to let my thoughts stray to a more unorthodox way of thinking, the kind parents, priests and old ladies wouldn't approve of.

Gay sex.

It sounded vulgar, but at the same time intriguing, exciting, probably exactly because of the taboo.

The fact that I wasn't repulsed by the mere thought of it suggested more and more to me that there was some viability to my idea. I supposed, as a decidedly straight guy - after all, I had always been attracted to women, had only ever slept with women and had never experienced sexual desire for other men - there should be some level of disgust. Though I had been startled to learn from Heero the other day that I had been inappropriately affectionate towards him when drunk, the shock of that had quickly worn of and everything that I had expected to feel - the disgust and the self-doubt - had never made an appearance.

Instead what popped into my head was 'FWB', a popularized acronym for friends-with-benefits.

I was shocked by my own epiphany, but, again, not put off by it. During the night I had come up with several, very rational, very convincing reasons to box up this idea, lock it securely and never speak of its existence, but still I could not get rid of that 'yeah, but...' feeling. It's not something I could verbalize, not something I could put my finger on, but it was there and it was clouding all of my carefully constructed rationality.

Obviously, if I ever were to suggest it to Heero, it could jeopardize our friendship, whether he would go along with it or not. In addition, if other people would find out, we could loose friends, be faced with misplaced homophobia and be seen as gay by these people for the rest of our lives.

Yeah, but...

"But what?" I asked the ceiling. In absence of a response I continued pensively, hesitantly: "But... I wouldn't have to have one-night-stands and risk hurting someone's feelings, including my own... and... people won't see me as a player... and people won't be calling Heero a slut. And we already feel comfortable around each other. We know each other. We trust each other. We could rely on the other to keep it a secret." My reasoning took a strange turn when I suddenly found myself musing aloud: "And Heero certainly isn't unattractive... the contrary." I frowned at that, but rather than judging myself for this unusual realization, I ran with it. I closed my eyes and searched for an attractive image of Heero. He came to my mind panting, wet, his hair slicked back, in his knee length, navy blue swim jammers.

Definitely not unattractive.

To test myself, to see if the concept really wouldn't weird me out, I stopped myself from tucking the image away out of nervous embarrassment. If I was seriously entertaining the thought of engaging in a friends-with-benefits relationship with another guy - with Heero - I needed to confront myself with the reality of it, didn't I?

I nodded and kept my eyes firmly shut, my minds eye stared at Heero, the backdrop of the pool blurry and unimportant. The detail was astounding, I found it more fascinating than disturbing.

Heero's angular features were uncannily symmetrical and were bathed in a golden glow. His blue gaze - lined by thick, long lashes, hooded by the arch of focused, almost frowning eyebrows, - were piercing, never looking at something, always looking into something. His mouth had always appeared taut to me, but as I paid more attention to his lips, I realized they were fuller and probably soft. His hair was wayward, tousled, only controllable when wet. On any given day he looked like he had just rolled out of bed that way - which was exactly the case. Bed hair. Sex hair, my daring mind supplied.

Heero's body was lean and proportionally his legs were longer than any other's. They were strong and defined, but slender, like the rest of him. Heero moved with a cat-like elegance; determined and precise movements. He had a tiny waist with broader shoulders, muscled arms and a defined chest. Even though he was stereotypically short, he debunked the myth that Asian men, by definition, are 'small'. As roommates it was unavoidable that we would see each other naked and Heero's manhood was nothing to be embarrassed about. I had even been jealous when I first saw it. Heero was a head shorter than me, but his dick was just as big. It was a strike to my pride, because I had always boasted that I had a pretty impressive set of tools.

Having passed the novice level of contemplating-gay-sex-with-your-best-friend, with flying colors, I sinfully decided to challenge myself. I slipped my hand under the sheets and moved down my body. I found it harder to concentrate on my mental image of Heero. It was interrupted by flashes of him smiling and laughing and pouring over his textbooks, waving at me from the bleachers and glaring at me from across the table. Reminding me that he was not just an attractive guy, like all those girls had been attractive, he was my best friend and this - whatever 'this' was - could ruin our friendship.

I stilled my hand just before the fingers pushed past the hem of my boxers. Two things hit me.

One: I couldn't get myself to do it, but two: I was hard.

My whole face felt hot as my cheeks flushed with a vibrant red. I had not expected it to be that... easy. Storing the information for future reference I patiently waited for my body to relax and then gathered my stuff for an early morning shower. After a sleepless night, how much hope was there to steel away some rest in the morning?

I turned the faucet to a colder temperature than usual as I tried to sort my thoughts and feelings into something I could make some sense out of. Apparently my body was not opposed to the idea, but fear kept smothering that 'yeah, but...' feeling. Heero would likely think me crazy for even suggesting it, the odds that he would be as unexpectedly open-minded in regards to the crazy solution to a not all that important problem were slim. However, what may have been most fearful was the unlikely possibility that he would agree to give it a try and that the ensuing awkwardness would ruin our friendship.

I reached for the faucet and turned it even further towards the freezing when I was caught off guard by the suddenly vivid memory of Heero breathing against my chest as he exposed it one button at a time.

And so the hormones and the youthful sex drive fueled the 'yeah, but...' feeling once more.

Deeming to have spent enough brain power on the matter for now, I tucked all my confusing and disturbing feelings and thoughts away and tried to get on with my day.

That afternoon found me sitting shoulder to shoulder with Heero at our cramped desk in our small dorm room, trying to have a meaningful discussion about the design project I was going to help him with. Sadly, I could not push away all distractions. Strange, I noted, how a single, simple thought can change the context of everything. Suddenly, us sitting shoulder to shoulder wasn't as casual as it always had been.

Heero was explaining the mechanics to me, showing me one technical diagram after the other, his finger rapidly pointing at joints and paneling as he tried to explain to me how the humanoid looking robot could transform into an aerodynamic, airplane-like shape.

I found it all very complicated, complicated even more by the fact that my sick, perverted mind - what else to call it? - kept wandering. My eyes traveled away from the schematics to Heero's form. He was wearing tight blue jeans and a loose, green tank top that exposed a sinful amount of his upper body. He had just taken a shower and the hair at the nape of his neck was still wet and the smell of his cheap, ordinary shampoo and shower gel was amazing on him.

"Duo!"

"What?!" I was startled out of a surreal trance.

"You said you would help me but you keep staring into thin air!" He accused, then he deflated and continued apologetically: "If you don't want to-"

"Stop it! Of course I want to help!" I shook my head and focused my gaze back on the diagrams. I studied them for a moment, Heero quiet beside me. After a final glance at the crude drawings he had attempted himself, I flipped the paper to the blank side and asked him if he minded it if I would sketch a bit.

Heero instantly handed me a pencil.

"Thanks." I put the tip of the pencil to the paper and started to draw the shape of the machine. It became increasingly hard to concentrate as Heero leaned in closer and closer, enthralled by the process and, as always, curious to learn and improve himself.

The weird thoughts I was having of him had no place in a friendship, I realized, as the consequences of that one thought, of late last night, started to fully dawn on me. Just three little words - friends with benefits - and all of a sudden everything is different, everything has changed about the one thing that I never wanted to change: my friendship with Heero. But it wouldn't be the first time that a single moment would change our relationship. That is exactly what happened in our Freshman year when we went from hating each other, to being best friends.

Oddly, we had Relena to thank for that.

She had organized a Christmas party, right before Christmas break and everyone would scatter off to see their families, myself included. I wasn't really looking forward to going to Maui with my parents, watch my mother suntan in too small a bikini and watch my father evade the rays of the sun like he evaded the poor. Relena's party was the perfect excuse to go home a day later, to avoid being present for all the pre-trip stress, practically a ritual that my mother always had to go through.

Heero was going as well, Relena had been badgering him about coming, it had been an exhausting process to watch as she kept stopping by our building, or even catching us in our room, bullying Heero into going - for lack of better words - when her sweeter tactics had failed. Served him right for being such an antisocial asshole. How it was possible that the most popular and one of the most attractive girls on campus was attractive to him was one of those things that was probably explainable, but I just couldn't grasp. Like how the ancient Egyptians built the great pyramids.

While I was getting dressed for the party, Heero was in his top bunk, reading a formidable textbook. He didn't seem too concerned with looking good for the festivities, his was wearing old, ratty jeans, his old, beaten-up sneakers and the same shirt he had been wearing for two days now.

"Duo!" A muffled voice barked through the door.

With a smile I crossed the distance to the door - all two steps - and swung it open to greet my friend. "WuFei! Looking good man!"

"Remind me why I had to take two buses and a train for this particular party."

I shrugged, "Lighten up man, hot girls and free beers, what more do you want?"

"Intellectual conversation is high on my list." Suddenly, amidst the banter, he became aware of the presence of my roommate. He leaned through the doorframe. "Uh, hi there," he said to the soles of Heero's shoes.

No response, how typical. What was up with this guy?

"Let's just go," I suggested.

"Isn't your friend coming with you?"

"He's not my friend." I ushered WuFei into the hallway and closed the door behind me.

We walked to dorm building D, one of the girl's dorm buildings, briefly catching up along the way. WuFei did pre-med at a more prestigious university a few towns over, an education my father would approve of - he told me so many times. We actually knew each other through our dads, WuFei's father - equally judgmental and difficult to please - was on the board of directors of one of my father's companies, ergo they were steadfast golfing buddies.

"Here it is!" I held the door open and allowed WuFei to head inside first.

We were greeted by the booming sound of mainstream music and people shouting in an attempt to have a conversation.

"Duo, you came!" Hilde bounced towards me and giggled when she spilled beer from the plastic cup she had been holding.

"How many have you had?" I asked her as I held her cup so she could wipe her hands on her tight - tight! - jeans. Hilde was just a friend, but there was no harm in looking.

"Thanks." She took back her cup. "Who's your friend?"

"Hilde, this is WuFei, he's pre-med at Hicks."

"Ohh, there's a doctor in the house! I like."

WuFei gave me a look at Hilde's shameless purr.

I nodded to the cup in her hand and explained: "She probably had quite a few."

"You have to say hi to the hostess!" Hilde suddenly burst and she started to scan the crowd for the senator's daughter who had generously footed the bill for all the drinks.

"Since when are you and Relena so buddy-buddy?" Relena wasn't exactly my most favorite person in the world. She wasn't bad, but she had a distinct spoiled little rich girl attitude that I just couldn't stand.

"Come on, she's nice! I've never had a popular girl be so nice to me, it's... refreshing. I like her."

At that moment, I worried about my friend. I liked Hilde the way she was: funny, odd, eccentric. She had survived high school that way, I would really hate for university to drain it out of her.

Hilde led us to the kitchen were all the alcohol was on display. I stuck to the watered down beer because I didn't want to get stinking drunk and make an ass out of myself. I introduced WuFei to my teammates on the basketball team and some of the guys from my dorm. WuFei frowned the whole time we were in the company of the yellow-haired Nash, it was clear the ever serious WuFei did not know how to act around someone like that. It was amusing.

After a few laughs with Owen Bane, a new guy who had just transferred and tried out for the basketball team, we went back to the kitchen for refills. Scouring for a full cup of beer between the mess, WuFei used the relative quiet of the brightly lit kitchen to ask me:

"So what's the deal between you and your roommate?"

"Heero?" I shrugged. Honestly, he wasn't my favorite topic for conversation. It's not like I hated the guy, we just didn't get along and being cooped up in a tiny dorm room with someone who pretends you don't exist is quite frustrating. "Nothing. Literally. We don't talk or anything."

"Well, that's too bad, I really lucked out with my roommate, he's a great guy. Too bad he's a senior though, he'll be graduating by the end of the year and then I'll probably be stuck with some freshman."

I shot my friend a look. "You," I emphasized, "are a freshman."

"Next year I won't be!"

"In any case, we'll probably be in the same situation."

"Oh?"

"Yeah. Normally, when you get shacked up with someone, it's for the full four years, but I asked around and it is possible to request a different room just before summer, so you'll have a new room by the time you get back in fall."

"Well, if you feel that's your only option. What does he think about that?"

I quirked an eyebrow at him. "Haven't told him."

WuFei snorted. "Oh, so he's just going to come back next year to a new roommate? That's kind of harsh."

"It's not like he's going to miss me."

"I guess it's probably for the better. It takes two to mess up a roommate-situation."

I turned and momentarily abandoned my cold beer to stare at him. "Pardon? So it's my fault? He didn't even say hello to you just now!" I prodded my friend in the side and nodded towards the door. "Speaking of..."

WuFei turned and watched Heero come through the door, looking incredibly uncomfortable. Immediately Relena was at his side, gushing over him. He looked - if possible - even more uncomfortable. WuFei made no comment, instead, he picked up where we had left off: "You can be difficult too. Your humor is a bit of an acquired taste, unknowingly, you can be really mean and abrasive at times. I can totally understand if someone less outgoing, like Heero, is put off by that."

"Hm."

"Besides, you're always very quick to judge people and write them off."

"Oh come on!" I burst, defending myself. "He was stonewalling me from the get-go, what was I supposed to do? Some people just aren't meant to be friends."

He gave me a meaningful look. "You have no idea how many people have said that about you and me. Yet here I am, drinking one-third beer, two-thirds water with you."

I looked past him at Heero, being handed an actual drink in an actual glass by Relena. She was practically gushing.

"So where are your parents taking you this time?"

"Maui. Jesus, my mom had to beg dad to take me along, can't say I'm grateful." He was still unspeakably angry at his son for choosing a meaningless education at a mediocre university.

"Nice."

"You?"

"I'm staying here this time, actually. Sally wants me to meet her parents this Christmas. She's already there, I'm supposed to join her tomorrow."

"Really? So it's getting serious huh? She got you wrapped around her little finger," I teased.

He glared at me. "No woman is the boss of me!"

"Aww, you like her."

"No I don't!"

I smirked. "It wasn't a question."

As if she knew we were talking her, WuFei's phone started to ring.

"Speaking of..." I took a sip from my beer. I scanned the crowd again and noticed Relena taking Heero upstairs, her arms tightly around him. Seriously? I made a face.

Annoyed WuFei fished the cell phone out of his pocket and answered curtly: "Yes?" Then soon after that: "No, no, I'm not angry. I'm sorry, I shouldn't have answered my phone like that."

I started laughing.

WuFei turned his back towards me so he could focus on the conversation. "Oh no. Honey, I'm so sorry... Are you okay? I'm with Duo... No, it's just a stupid party. I'm leaving right now, okay?" He checked his watch. "Thirty minutes tops. I'll be there. Bye, I love you too." He turned back to me with an apologetic look. "Your wing man has to punch out."

"What? What's wrong?"

"Sally was in tears," he looked genuinely concerned, "her parents just told her they are getting a divorce."

"Oh, I'm sorry." I felt bad for laughing at them before, I hoped she hadn't heard.

"Yeah, it's a mess. Apparently they got in a big fight and she walked away, she's waiting for me at the train station. Rain check?"

"Yeah, of course, she needs you! Hey and good news, at least now you won't have to meet her parents." I winked.

WuFei stared at me. "Yeah." Then, after a contemplative frown, he pointed at me and comment: "You know, that's exactly the kind of humor of yours I was referring to earlier. It's kind of harsh."

Weighed down by a significant guilt-trip I muttered my apology.

"No, it's fine, I can take it. But, just so you know." He patted my shoulder and said his goodbye before storming through the crowd towards the front door.

I sighed. The party was over for me as well, no wingman and feeling bad about myself did not make me feel like dancing or telling jokes. I finished what was left of my beer, put the empty cup with the others on the counter and started making my way through the mass of people as well.

Everyone popular enough to get invited had come and while I had been in the kitchen with WuFei, Nash and some girls had climbed on top of the dinner table to dance. He waved me over but I shook my head. I knew all fellow students saw me as quite the ladies man, having had several girlfriends already, but climbing on top of a table and grinding against perfect strangers wasn't my thing.

I continued towards the door but as I turned I bumped into something pink.

She had a bit of a distraught expression but relief washed over that as she recognized me. "You're Duo, right? Heero's roommate?"

"Yeah..." How many times had she stopped by our room and yet she still barely knew my name? Talk about tunnel vision, I muttered inwardly.

"Good, I need you to come with me." she promptly took hold of my hand and dragged me through the dancing bodies.

"Wait," after I got past being dumbfounded I resisted her pull. "What's going on?"

She looked at me incredibly impatient and frustrated. "You have to come with me. Upstairs."

I had no idea what she was getting at. "Why?"

"Just come!" She grabbed my hand again.

With a sigh I decided to follow her, only because it looked like she was about to panic and I didn't want her to freak out and start screaming at me amidst all those people or anything. I trailed her upstairs and to her room. How I knew? There were two names on the door, one in pink and frilly lettering: RELENA, above a poster of little kittens wearing hats and dresses. Funny, I noted, in the guys dorm building there were posters of 'pussies' as well, but ironically they weren't wearing any clothes.

Inwardly chuckling I stepped into the small dorm room that was a carbon copy of my own, albeit cleaner and with more pink.

She pointed at the figure on the bottom bunk.

"Heero?" I was about to make an inappropriate joke about not being interested in a threesome when I noticed he did not look too good. He lay on his side, his legs drawn up. The hands, with which he clutched his abdomen were shaking. His face was sickly pale and sweaty, his mouth was open with pants and sometimes moans. His eyes were unfocused.

"Jesus!" I approached him cautiously, a little daunted by the seriousness of the situation I had been thrown into.

His eyes fixated on me, lacking all of the usual resentment with which he normally glared at me. He looked scared and I pitied him instantly, forgetting about my own negative feelings towards him. I kneeled beside the bed and touched his forehead. He was burning up. Being best friends with a medical student, I knew to check his heart rate as well. I put two fingers on his throat and was worried by his fast and irregular pulse. In contrast with his pulse he was breathing very slowly.

"What the fuck happened?"

"I don't know!" Relena screamed. "He just became really drowsy and confused and then he started breathing like that and becoming pale. Oh my god he's really pale."

"Yeah, I can see that!"

"Is he going to be okay?"

I glared at her. "Does this look like something he can just sleep off? Jesus!"

"Well, should I call for an ambulance then?"

"No, waiting for an ambulance to get here is just a waste of time. Go find Trowa, I saw him downstairs. He's on Heero's swim team, I think he has a car." I looked at Heero. "He has a car, right?"

Heero slowly nodded.

"Go! Go!" I yelled at Relena.

"I don't know who he is!"

"Really, really tall, auburn hair... Oh fuck it, just turn off the Goddamn music and call his name!"

She nodded and ran out the door.

It was a little awkward to be left alone with Heero and I felt uncomfortable under his stare, but I had more important things to worry about than such childish things. I stroked my hand through his hair. "Your going to be okay. It's probably nothing." I didn't know if it was nothing - I had no idea what it was at all - but it just seemed like something I should say to reassure him.

Suddenly the music died out and I heard Relena scream: "Which one of you is Trowa?!"

I kept stroking Heero's hair, hoping to comfort him, while I was scared shitless myself.

Heero coughed and then leaned forward and threw up, luckily missing my lap. His body shook, it almost looked like he was having some kind of seizure.

The music was turned back on but thankfully Trowa had still been at the party and Relena had managed to find him. Mere seconds later he was in the room with us. He seemed a little shocked at the situation.

"We're going to need your car, is that okay?"

"Sure. Of course."

I had no idea if Heero and Trowa were friends, but at least he was kind enough to help. He helped me get Heero up from the bed, each of us supporting one side of him.

Relena stood before us. In our way. "Are you going to take him to a hospital?"

"Yes, so get the fuck out of the way."

"Then it would probably help if you knew what I gave him, right?" She bit her lips and looked at us with big, sorrowful eyes.

I glared at her. "You gave him something? Wha- You- What did you give him?"

"I just wanted to help him relax, he always seems so tense! A friend of mine gave me something that could help with that."

"We don't have time for this," Trowa stressed, casting a worried glance at Heero's face.

"What did you give him?!"

"G-GHB," she stuttered, "I put it in his drink. I gave him more than my friend said I should, but Heero is so tense, I thought he needed more."

"GHB? Isn't that...?"

Trowa looked at me. "It's a date-rape drug."

"What? No! It was just to help him relax, he said!" Relena protested desperately.

"Oh my God, Relena," I exclaimed, "You are such a psycho bitch!"

Having no time to properly yell at her I pushed her aside with my free arm and Trowa and I took Heero downstairs. Oddly, no one ever questioned us where we were going. All in a days work, I supposed.

Along the way we had to stop as Heero threw up again, which was probably for the better, considering what he had been given. He had to get it out of his system.

We put Heero in the back and I hurried to the other side to sit next to him. He fumbled with his seatbelt and when I realized it wasn't going to happen, his hands uncoordinated and weak, I did it for him. Trowa took a seat behind the wheel of his old, small car and we sped off. Luckily it was late, so the streets were quiet. We arrived at the entry of the emergency room five minutes later. In hindsight, Trowa was probably glad Heero didn't vomit in his car, but at that moment, like me, the only thing he was concerned about was Heero.

Inside two nurses and a doctor took him off our hands and we were pointed to two empty seats in the waiting room. But I couldn't sit, I was too worked up about everything. What also had me thinking, was how worried I was, wasn't I supposed to not give a damn about Heero? Yet that night I bothered every nurse that walked by, demanding to see him.

After an hour, Trowa apologetically announced that he had to get home. He had a very early flight the next day, back to his hometown for Christmas. I thanked him for his help, he assured me it wasn't a problem. At his request we exchanged cell phone numbers and he kindly asked me to text message or call him as soon as I had any news about Heero.

Finally, I had calmed down enough to take a seat. A nurse approached me a few minutes later and asked about family of Heero's she could contact. I, shamefully, had to admit that I didn't really know him that well. I didn't even know how to spell his last name. That made me feel very guilty. Heero may still be the antisocial asshole, I - as the outgoing one - should have put more effort into getting to know him, if not to be friends, then just out of decency.

Another hour later, because they were unable to contact any family, I was invited to the room where he was recovering from having his stomach pumped. Probably unprofessionally candid, the nurse told me he had been given medication for his heart rate and they had inserted a nasal cannula to provide him with more oxygen as he slowly recovered from the respiratory depression. The situation was stable but he would have to spend the night in the hospital as the drugs made their way out of his system. Considering the nature of the drug, she offered to call the police, but for the time being I assured her it was nothing more than an unfortunate accident. When Heero was feeling better, he could decide whether or not he felt police involvement was necessary. Even though I could choke Relena for her mistake, it did seem to be just a mistake. It appeared her 'friend' hadn't clearly explained to her what the effects of the drug would be. Confronted with the results, she hadn't tried to rape him, she came for help.

Still, what a psycho bitch.

I stopped in the doorway to the room. There were six beds, two unoccupied, three had the lights turned off and the occupants appeared fast asleep. One patient was sitting propped up against a mountain of pillows. In the light of a reading lamp I could see his complexion had a bit more color.

At the sound of my footsteps approaching him, Heero opened tired eyes to look at me. He seemed a little baffled to see me there.

I sat down in the chair next to the bed. I contemplated reaching for his hand, but with the emergency of the situation over, that felt too out of place and alien. "How do you feel?"

He didn't answer, he said: "I didn't think you'd still be here."

A pang of guilt. Because he sounded so pathetic and sad. I shrugged and tried to be casual about it. "I know we're not exactly friends, but I wasn't about to leave you in a hospital all by yourself. The nurse said there wasn't anyone she could contact."

"That is by choice. So you don't have to feel guilty about that." His voice was soft and weak and vulnerable, unlike usual. Though he tried to act tough and glare at me.

"What do you mean?"

He sighed and looked away. After a while he answered: "My dad lives near here, but I don't want them to call him. He's probably passed out in bed anyway."

Daddy-issues, I could relate. "Don't get along with the old man, huh? I know what that's like."

He looked at me in surprise, probably not expecting me to be understanding and honest.

"My dad hates me because I don't want to become like him," I confessed. I didn't know why it was suddenly so easy to open up to him, but it was. Maybe it was the sad look in his eyes that all of a sudden made me want to be friends with him, just so the sadness would go away.

"My dad left when I was little and last year blackmailed me into coming to America." He spoke softly. His accent not as thick as it was, but still noticeable, reminding me he hadn't been in the States for all that long. The guilt piled onto my shoulders, he was all alone here, far away from his home.

I snorted and offered him a smile. "You win."

His lips formed a tired smile, it felt victorious, even though his eyes were still distrusting.

"Your English accent is getting better," I noted, solely to alleviate the tension, even though it was the truth. "Last time you told me to go fuck myself I couldn't distinguish it from a true American. Practice makes perfect."

"Thank you," he replied uncomfortably.

"Sorry if I have been giving you a hard time."

Heero seemed surprised at the serious turn in the conversation.

"To be honest," I continued after a brief pause, "I'm not really used to people not liking me. That sounds so stupid, but it's true. Generally speaking, people respond positively to my jokes and such, so it sort of threw me that we didn't get along. It never really dawned on me that that might be because I can be a little... much."

"Hm." Heero smiled bitterly.

"What?"

"It's just funny." That's what he said, but his expression was not amused, it was still sad. "You're used to people liking you. I'm used to people not liking me. So, that's probably why I reacted so severely to your 'jokes and such'. I just couldn't imagine the attempt at befriending me to be genuine."

"Well, I have to admit, after the sixth "go fuck yourself" I wasn't really in friendly headspace anymore. Or was it the seventh?"

Heero smiled, brightly and earnestly this time.

I smiled in return. "Wow, who knew a near-death experience was all it took to get us to be normal to each other?" I joked.

"Yeah, if I had known this months ago I would have long drugged myself or something."

Pleasantly surprised at his dry sense of humor that matched my own I burst out laughing. Rather than shushing me, Heero chuckled with me. I looked at his face in wonder, it was like he was a completely different person and maybe he was. All this time there had been a wall between us and it was the stone cold facade of this wall that I had been looking at. Stupidly, it never occurred to me that there may be a likable, real person behind that wall and that the facade wasn't about being an asshole, but about protecting himself.

"So, how are you feeling?" I asked, remembering the crazy night that was now behind us.

Heero smiled at me. He was still quite pale, there was an IV in his left arm and the pure supply of oxygen through his nose was still necessary, yet he answered: "Never been better."

And just like that, we were friends.

"Where have you gone?" Heero's deep voice broke through the fog that clouded my mind.

I looked up from the paper, a little perplexed to find myself in the here and now again. "What?"

Heero nodded towards the paper. "You just stopped drawing all of a sudden."

I looked back down at the incomplete pencil image of a 'Gundam'.

Heero smiled at me, the way he had that first time in that hospital room, the way he only did to me. "Are you okay? If this bores you..."

"No!" I interjected, I didn't want Heero to feel bad about me helping him with schoolwork for once. "No, that's not it, my mind just drifted off a bit, no biggie."

"Where did you go?"

I briefly thought about lying, but then I thought to myself: why would I? There was nothing shameful about that memory, I really shouldn't let my friends-with-benefits idea get to me like this. I answered truthfully, after brief, inner debate: "The day before Christmas break, Freshman year."

Heero snorted, but the smile never wavered. "Sentimental sap."

"I just now realized we have that psycho bitch to thank for our friendship. Should I send flowers?"

Heero playfully punched me. "Don't give her any idea, who knows what she'll lace my drink with next."

"Oh, don't worry baby, I'll be there to protect you."

Heero let out a hearty laugh.

My hands started to get sweaty as a crazy thoughts popped into my head. The 'yeah, but...' feeling had returned with vengeance. I braved to speak the words I was thinking: "You know, Relena had a crazy idea and something really good came out of it."

"Okay, whose drink are you thinking of spiking?" Heero joked dryly.

"No! Nothing like that! But, I do have a pretty insane idea. How open-minded are you about crazy ideas?"

Heero gave me a look. "You got me to pee in a public fountain. In broad daylight. So there is really no telling how open-minded you'll bully me into being."

"It's way more crazy than that."

"Okay, give me a ballpark estimation. Rob-a-bank crazy, or build-our-own-spaceship-out-of-scrap-metal-and-fly-to-the-moon crazy?"

His question threw me off, because it suddenly dawned on me that I didn't think my crazy idea was as crazy as the two he had suggested, even though, all things considered, I probably should have. It was another reminder of how strangely open I was to the idea.

Heero continued dryly: "Because I could use the money, but I really don't think we'll be able to create a pressurized cabin and enough rocket power to get out of the atmosphere."

I wasn't yet sure if I really wanted my friends-with-benefits idea to become a reality, but since Heero was such a big part of it, I figured I should probably clue him in on my crazy thought process early on, see how vulnerable he would be to the 'yeah, but...' feeling. I guess though I mostly wanted to tell him because I wanted him to decide for me, as it became increasingly more clear to be that though I could not shake this idea, I had reservations about putting it into action as well. Yet the scary, crazy side seemed to overpower the rational side more and more. I needed him to douse me in an abundance of rationality so I could just drop the idea and have a good night's sleep and not find myself staring at his crotch again.

Heero tilted his head in wonder as he must have caught on that I was being serious as opposed to just joking around. "What is it?"

Stalling, to grant myself time to gather up more courage, I explained: "It's just a crazy thought that popped into my head last night. And I don't even know if I want to. But I also don't know if I don't want to and... that says a lot I think." From the expression on his face it was clear I was only confusing him. "I've been thinking of a way to have sex without having to get into a serious romantic relationship and without leading girls on to have one-night-stands."

Heero, still unsure of where this was going, only quirked an eyebrow at me.

Just spit it out! I told myself. Then, it happened and even though I knew it was going to, it still startled me. "I was thinking of a friends with benefits situation."

Heero's perplexed expression never changed. The question in his eyes was obvious: With who?

"With you," I clarified.

Aside from his eyes widening he remained frozen in his seat, staring at me with the most shocked and flabbergasted expression.

I waited expectantly. I had expected him to either laugh it off or just tell me no - and tell me that I'm crazy. His silence was confusing and - after a very long time had passed - uncomfortable and worrisome. "Are you okay?" I eventually ventured.

He swallowed loudly, then said with an odd voice: "I think I'm having a cerebral hemorrhage." Then he suddenly started laughing nervously and in between gasping breaths as he continued to laugh, he said: "I thought you just asked me to have sex with you!" His laughter soon died out when I did not join him and instead just looked at him. "Oh my God." He got up from his seat and walked to a distant corner of the small room.

I noted Heero was reacting the same way I thought I would. I still wondered why I hadn't.

"Maybe you are the one having a stroke!" He accused.

"I've been thinking about it all night and all morning."

Heero made a face, more than a little perturbed. "No. Nonono..."

"Not like that!" Well, actually, it almost had been 'like that', but I didn't think it a good idea to confront him with that.

He looked at me accusingly, angrily. "This is about what happened Friday night, isn't it? This is still about that stupid almost-kiss thing. I thought you were going to drop it."

"I did!" I argued. "I'm not upset anymore. The contrary in fact. I'm okay with it."

He looked at me like I had gone mental and maybe I had, because the more I thought about it, the less freaked out about it I was.

And I was looking at his crotch again...

"Jesus Duo, stop looking at my groin!"

Oops, didn't think he's notice my fleeting glance. "I take it you're not very open to the idea..."

"Let me put it this way: I wish you had asked me to go to the moon with you." Heero seemed to simmer down, but he stayed near the wall, away from me, visibly struggling to dismantle the bomb I had just dropped on him.

"Like I said," I tried to appease, "I'm not really sure if it's something I want... But I must confess I'm not appalled by the idea. Lots of people have a friends with benefits relationship."

"Lots of straight, same gender people?" He deadpanned.

"I suppose not. Look, I know that it sounds so crazy, but think about it. Is it really crazy? Sex is just sex, it's just a physical thing, you don't have to be in love with someone to have sex with someone."

Heero rolled his eyes. "But there has to be attraction."

"I'm not gay, let me get that straight - no pun intended. But as a straight guy I can still recognize that you are attractive. Doesn't that boil down to attraction?"

"Not really."

I continued bravely: "And we'd probably be great in bed together."

Heero put his hands on his hips and scoffed. "Oh really?"

"Yeah. You have your sexual mojo that keeps the ladies coming and I think I can say that I've got the moves as well. On top of that, we're both guys, so we know exactly what feels good. And we feel comfortable around each other and we trust each other."

Heero sighed and looked at me pleadingly. "Duo, stop it."

"Why, are you starting to see the logic behind it?" I teased.

"No, you're making me uncomfortable. You've given this a disturbing amount of thought!" He looked apologetic as I - apparently - looked disappointed. "You are a very good looking guy and I don't doubt that you've... 'got the moves', but you're talking about having sex together like it's a straightforward solution to your problem when it is about the most farfetched thing anyone could come up with. How did you ever get to this?"

"The guys are calling you my wife. We have this little things where we pretend to be an old married couple. How could it not cross my mind? Our friendship has never been a regular guy-guy friendship, is it really that much of a leap?" I frowned at myself. I was really trying to justify it and convince him, shouldn't I be as repelled by the mere idea as he was? Was he too sexually conservative, or was I just way too far out there? I just saw sex as a fun and relaxing activity. Of course, with the right girl, sex was more than a physical act, I knew that, but without love - and even without the opposite gender, evidently - I believed sex could be a good relief and should not be taken too seriously and doesn't necessarily have to prompt deep and meaningful questions about the self.

I wasn't opposed to having sex with Heero. That didn't - not even for a moment - make me doubt my sexual orientation. I liked girls. I just so happened to like sex as well and the easiest, most uncomplicated access to that happened to be a guy. So what?

I recognized society would approve nor understand my perspective on the matter, but in the total lack of completely freaking out myself, I was overcome with a calm and acceptance.

"Stop looking at my crotch!"

I chuckled. "Sorry."

"It's not funny." But a smile cracked his otherwise severely disturbed expression anyway.

"Sit down, I'm not going to molest you."

With a relenting sigh he walked back to his seat and sat down.

"I've tried to convince you to see the upside to it. Now you try to convince me to see the downside."

He frowned. "I really need to?"

"I know what the downsides are, I just, so far, haven't found them to be very persuasive."

"Fine," he paused but didn't have to think long. "What about: risking our friendship?"

I nodded. "Valid point, I thought of that myself, but I think we might be able to handle it. Like I said, there is nothing standard about our friendship, the other guys already frown at how close we are and that has never bothered us."

The fact that he started thinking of a new argument, made me wonder if I had convinced him on the previous and if the 'yeah, but...' feeling was getting to him.

"We're not gay," he said definitively.

"We don't need to be."

Heero chuckled uncomfortably. "What is the matter with you? You can't seriously be toying with this idea, it is ridiculous! It doesn't make any sense and it is so frustrating that you are acting like it is the most straightforward thing in the world." He made a lot of awkward, uncoordinated hand gestures as he stumbled with more syllables that never made any sense.

Very Duo-like of me - meaning: stupidly - I blurted: "I got hard thinking about you today." I said it as a final attempt to convince him that we didn't need to be gay to make sex work, only when I said it was I once more reminded of how crazy my idea was.

Heero's innocently shocked expression quickly yielded to a dangerous glare. All of a sudden he rose out of his seat and powerfully pushed his hands against my chest. I felt my body being pushed backwards, the chair starting to tip. Sure enough the weight shift was significant enough to tip me over and I painfully landed on my back on the carpet. The chair rattled and something snapped - one of the wheels broke off. I looked up at him as he stood over me, his glare more intense than I ever remember it being. The 'yeah, but...' feeling cowered, leaving me totally defenseless against the pang of guilt as I realized I had clearly offended him and jeopardized our friendship for something so unworthy as casual sex.

I really overestimated his openness to the idea, based on my own.

"Go fuck yourself," he spat. "Seriously."

In a blur, with stomping feet, he was gone.

Had I really pushed it so far? I wondered, still on the floor. I understood his reaction - I recognized it was the reaction everyone was supposed to have at a proposition like that - but I did not identify with it. Briefly, it scared me. Was I so loveless that, to me, love and sex had become so detached that sex in itself had lost all meaning to me?

I knew it was a crazy idea, but I didn't think it was that crazy. The look on his face was one of shock and betrayal. Clearly I had underestimated the biggest downside to this idea: the risk to our friendship. I had been operating under the illusion that he would be as strangely calm about it as I was. But he felt the things we should both be feeling and in evoking those feelings in him, I had already negatively affected our friendship with this loony idea of mine.

I hoped he would come back soon so I could apologize and then pretend nothing had ever been said or done.

I knew that was going to be tough though, seeing as I still couldn't stop thinking about it.


	7. Chapter 7

**Thousand Words**

**_Seven_ **

Heero didn't came home that night. That had me worried sick. I had quickly figured he had spent the night at his dad's house after the mandatory Sunday dinner, but that is exactly what I found to be so worrying. Heero hated his dad, so things must have been really bad between us for him to prefer sleeping over at his father's, rather than being faced with me.

So it was another sleepless night for me.

I was disappointed that my 'uncomplicated plan' to have sex turned out to be so spectacularly complicated. I had fooled myself into believing that Heero could approach the matter with the same kind of aloofness as I had. I realized I should just forget about it. The whole idea had been to be able to have sex without the confusing myriad of emotions; with the worry and the guilt, but I was obviously mistaken, if anything I felt more worried and more guilty and we hadn't even had sex.

As the night progressed, I couldn't help but wonder what it would have been like if we had had sex. Would he still have stormed out? Would I be feeling worried and guilty? Would we have enjoyed it? Would we have enjoyed it enough to move past the awkwardness and do it again?

I should just stop thinking about it, I told myself. There is no point in entertaining the thought. It was over, I wasn't going to go out on a limb and take that risk again, I'd be lucky to be able to patch things up with Heero as it was. He had been clearly freaked out when I had confessed to him that sexual thoughts of him didn't exactly put me off. The opposite in fact. And I still felt that way. I still felt that inexplicable tingle down my spine when I let my mind wander and I remembered that night when we had come home from the club and I had been stinking drunk. I would never dare to admit it out loud, but Heero's warm breath spreading across my chest as his fingers unbuttoned my shirt was one of the most sensual memories I had access to. Probably because I had just been so fucking drunk that my mind warped my senses and perspective, but still.

It would have been easier if I had had the same, strong reaction to this idea as Heero had. That way I could just let it go, shake it from my thoughts and go on happily pretending that no suggestion of that sort had ever been made. Now, it haunted me. I felt like a total creep, but I couldn't deny that even though I acknowledged how wrong it was, I was still so curious.

I blinked up at the ceiling, noticing rays of sunlight painting random shapes. The night was over, morning had come. Normally Heero would be getting out of bed now, as quietly as possible, getting dressed to go for his morning run. I turned my head and looked around the empty room. I imagined him standing there, limbs moving quickly and elegantly as he changed out of his nightwear and into his spandex shorts, grey hoodie and running shoes. As much as I was tempted to explore a new dimension to our unorthodox friendship, I valued our friendship the way it was too much to push it - possibly pushing Heero away.

I stayed in bed and waited for my alarm to go off before dragging my ass out from underneath the sheets. I got dressed in old jeans and a plain T-shirt and sweater and headed out the door, stopping by the coffeehouse for my regular dose of caffeine. As I crossed the campus - hot paper cup in my hand - I scanned the area, focusing on the gate, hoping to see him head for his own early morning classes. That was in vain. I hardly ever ran into Heero at school, being students of different departments, we had classes on opposite ends of the building.

Grumbling to myself I went upstairs to the small classroom tucked away in the back.

Mister Mulnick rambled on for two hours, discussing another philosophical subject that I couldn't be bothered with. I paid him no heed. I had tried to, but I was too distracted. Hoping Heero would be in the library for lunch as usual, I wanted to have some kind of peace-offering for him, so I put aside my notebook and dug out my sketchbook. I never got to finish the design concept for his Gundam, that I was supposed to help him with yesterday. He might be less inclined to kill me if I were to remind him that I could be a useful resource for his studies.

I started with a large drawing of the Gundam in it's humanoid shape, losing myself in the process. It was amazing how much detail I was able to extract from the description Heero had given me and I could hear him speaking passionately in my head as I worked on the individual parts. Getting excited about the project, I added small design details of my own and equipped the large robot with an immense laser beam gun. Heero was a total geek, so I figured he would probably appreciate that. On that note, I gave the Gundam a laser beam sword as well.

The sketch was finished about halfway into the lecture and I shook my head when I inspected the result. It was probably a bit too science-fiction-y to be appreciated by a serious engineering professor, but I would make a new one for Heero once I had gotten some of his feedback. If he was stilling willing to work with me, that was.

I made a second drawing of the Gundam morphed into it's aerodynamic shape. The sketch was much less detailed because without Heero's technical insight I had trouble figuring out where everything would go to successfully make the transition. I had to redo parts of it, furiously running my eraser over the paper.

The guy in front of me turned around and gave me an angry look when I accidentally blew the eraser residue into his neck.

"Sorry," I whispered, then continued my work.

It was really only a matter of time before: "Mister Maxwell?"

My heart sank. I looked up from my drawing at the professor looking at me smugly from the front of the class. "Yes, professor Mulnick?"

"What are you doing that is so much more important than my class?"

I inconspicuously closed my sketchbook. "Nothing?" I tried.

"You don't happen to be drawing another pornographic sketch again, do you?"

One time! One time and you're the guy that draws pornographic sketches! "No, sir, I wouldn't dare. Not after you had me write an essay on the morality of explicit sexuality and pornography in modern society."

"Then by all means, show us your sketch. Honor us with your impeccable artistry," he challenged.

"Uh..." I was a little self-conscious about showing the class a sketch of a giant, humanoid robot. I, unlike Heero, was not a geek and I didn't really jump at the opportunity of having people think otherwise. On top of that, I didn't want Mulnick to know I was helping Heero with his engineering design assignment, he'd probably talk Heero's professor into flunking him for enlisting the help of another student. "You know what, sir? I'm sorry, but it is, indeed, another explicitly vulgar sketch. So I'd rather not show it..." I slumped in my seat, knowing I would be writing another long essay.

"Well, Mister Maxwell, you are just a sick, perverted young man, aren't you?"

I sighed and rolled my eyes. "Guilty as charged." I bet Heero would agree.

He seemed very pleased. With a big grin he announced: "You will be writing a follow-up on that essay. This time you will explore the moral views on sexual expression and pornography in ancient history. I'd advise you to focus on ancient Greek and Roman cultures, that should be an interesting read for me. Now, let's continue with the subject matter at hand..."

I stopped listening as soon as he turned back to face the blackboard. Of all the electives to chose from, I thought to myself, I just had to pick philosophy.

During the remainder of the class I didn't dare start to draw again. I didn't want him to double the word count on the essay, not because I was technically too busy, I just really hated writing essays.

Of course the lecture was so boring that I had no sufficient distraction and soon enough I was troubled by the same problem that had kept me up all night.

Why did I even say anything to Heero? I berated myself. I wasn't even sure if it was something I really wanted to do, right? I paused at that thought, suddenly not so sure. I had immediately been aware of the fact that the thought didn't bother me, but had I really been prepared to do it? What if Heero had said: "Okay!" I played that scenario in my head with startling results. If Heero had agreed to it, I would have definitely done it, I realized, or at least attempted to.

Professor Mulnick droned on, supposedly trying to engage us in the question of life, but I had a far more pressing matter on my mind.

Why was I still not freaked out by this?

I frowned at myself with disdain. God, am I such a douche that I can demean my best friend to a mere sex-object and not even think of him as a real person, as my friend - as my male friend? Because surely then it would freak me out, right? Had I always been that much of an insensitive, detached asshole? Maybe Hilde fucked me up more than I had ever imagined.

Lunch hour finally came and I rushed by the cafeteria to get three hot sandwiches, normally I would take the medium sized sandwiches, but that time I went with Large. It just seemed like the appropriate thing to do after proposing to your best friend to have sex together...

I don't think I was really thinking straight at that moment, being sleep-deprived and confused out of my fucking mind.

I bribed the librarian as usual and noticing the large size of her lunch, she wondered with a grin: "Do you have something to celebrate?"

"Sure," I answered dumbly. I figured I would be crossing a line by telling her the truth: that I had alienated my best friend and roommate by suggesting that we could have meaningless sex together. I rushed through the open space of the library towards our private study room in the back. With every step I prayed he would be there because I feared that the longer we would be apart, mulling over this in private, the more awkward it would be once we would finally be faced with each other.

In the hallway I paused momentarily to calm my breathing. I had been speed-walking so fast I had started to pant and I had been so nervous my face had turned an embarrassing red shade. After a few deep breaths I closed the distance to our study room at the far end and looked through the narrow window beside the door.

I sighed in relief when I saw him sitting in his usual spot, pouring over schematics with his characteristic, pensive frown. I opened the door cautiously and remained in the doorway as I greeted awkwardly: "Hey, man."

He looked up from his studies with an indifferent expression. "Hey."

I closed the door behind me and leaned against it. I didn't want to seem like I was intruding into his space without any regards for his feelings. I needed him to know that I would be respectful of his personal space and not try to jump him or anything. It was very important that he knew that.

"Mexican or Italian?" I inquired lightheartedly, holding up the sandwiches.

"I already ate."

"Oh," I looked down.

He looked back at his work but he didn't seem to be focusing on it.

"So," I started again, "you spent the night at your dad's?"

"Yeah..." he grumbled.

I sighed and finally walked further into the room. I guessed I needed to talk, more than I needed him to have his space. I took the seat next to his, making him visibly tense, and discarded the sandwiches on the table. "I'm sorry," I spoke up genuinely.

He snorted. "Well, you should be," he deadpanned, "I hate my dad."

"I know and I'm so sorry that I made you so uncomfortable that you felt like you couldn't come back to the dorm."

"You really freaked me out!" He exclaimed, looking up at me again.

"I know, I shouldn't have said anything."

"It's not just what you said..." he trailed off, struggling to find words. "I mean, what you said - what you suggested - was fucked up enough, but for you to get turned on thinking about me... that is just twisted! I really don't like you thinking of me like that. We're supposed to be friends and when you think of me like that, it makes everything weird. I mean, we're friends and roommates so we've seen each other naked or almost naked like a million times and that meant nothing. And now it's like: did you see, or did you watch?" He emphasized the last word and looked dutifully disturbed.

"This doesn't change anything between us. I had a stupid idea and I was stupid enough to say it out loud. It doesn't mean anything," I appeased.

He made a face, still hesitant. "Did you- oh God..." he took a deep breath and then looked at me with a mixture of fear and disgust. "When you said you got... hard, thinking of me... Did you jerk off, thinking of me?"

"No! I couldn't do it!" I answered almost excitedly, because that was the truth and I hoped dearly it would put him at ease.

He breathed a small sigh of relief. "That's a little better... I guess. Because that thought really pissed me off. That you would just do that and were willing to abuse our closeness like that..."

At his morose tone my heart sank. "I am really sorry."

"Yeah... me too."

I smiled at him. "You are?"

He shrugged his shoulders casually but his fingers played with the corner of a blueprint nervously as he quietly admitted: "As crazy as you were being, I shouldn't have pushed you like that."

A long silence stretched between us. Heero seemed lost in thought and I stared at him worriedly. Eventually, I asked dreadfully: "So are we okay?"

He sighed. "Yes, of course. If it really didn't mean anything, then there is no reason to let it affect our friendship. Right?"

Relief washed over me. I beamed a smile at him. "Right."

"What is with the super-sized lunches?" He suddenly asked, nodding at the sandwiches on the table with a frown.

"Oh, I just figured, since I had a lot to make up to you..."

"Well, if that's the case... I wouldn't want your gesture to go to waste." He reached out and grabbed the Mexican chicken sandwich. He unwrapped it and took a large bite, grinning at me.

I chuckled. "I thought you already ate."

"I lied."

"Hm. You little minx," I teased.

Heero shot me a sideway glance.

"Too soon?" I verified.

He nodded, then returned to his studies.

To keep both our minds from wandering back to that awkward place I showed him the sketches I had made and we lost ourselves discussing esthetics and functionality. I was relieved as it seemed things were almost completely normal between us. Almost. He did tense up every time I leaned in a little too close, or our hands accidentally touched as we pointed at details in the sketch. Part of him probably still wondered if my intentions were truly platonic. I guessed there was no other way for me to convince him of that other than to just pretend last night had never happened; no mentioning it, no more weird suggestions.

I silently wondered how long it would be until I would buy my own pretense. Outwardly pretending these thoughts had never existed in my head was far easier than really expelling every trace of them from my mind.

Every time the thoughts surfaced, I just had to push them aside and hope that one day they would magically stop surfacing. I recognized that wasn't going to be easy, because each time I looked at Heero I was reminded of my foolish idea - which still didn't seem all that foolish of me aside from the pressure it would put on our friendship.

With every glance his way I was reminded that I honestly believed I would be able to do it. I would be able to have sex with him. The weirdness and novelty of that thought wore off quickly after being exposed to it repetitively. Involuntary my mind noticed new things about Heero that I didn't think I had ever even noticed before, let alone given conscious thought, even though they had always been there.

Like his hands. I had never thought of Heero's hands before, but lately I couldn't help but notice how soft they were and how long and slim his fingers were. It wasn't long before I subconsciously started wondering how his hands would feel, touching me in the kind of intimate manner in which only girls had touched me. Those trains of thoughts I had to derail the instant I became aware of them speeding down the tracks, because they led straight to the stops stir-crazy-city and murdered-by-best-friend-junction.

Luckily, Heero never seemed to have heard them thundering along the tracks and things appeared blissfully fine between us by the end of the week. His swim competition had probably offered the appropriate amount of distraction to get us through it. As Friday drew near he became too excited and competitive to be bothered with what had transpired between us. And some time apart - as he trained intensively with Trowa and the other members of the swim team - helped the normalcy settle between us.

Thursday night we were cooped up together in one of our dorm building's bathrooms. I was rambling on about Hilde who had tried to talk to me again that day and Heero was shaving his legs in preparation for the swim meet. For me it was the ultimate proof that all weirdness between us had passed, even though I was secretly still kindling some within myself.

"I just cannot believe this. I thought for sure, after that night at the club, she would leave me alone. But now it seems I have made her see how wrong she had been and she's just relentless in trying to make it up with me." I scoffed. "Growing a conscience all of a sudden... what a bitch!"

Heero sat on the edge of the bathtub that was filled with a couple of inches of water in which he rinsed the razor each time after dragging it up his leg, covered with shaving cream. He was only wearing a loose button-up shirt and boxer briefs with the legs rolled up as far as possible, so he could shave the entire leg. I had asked him long ago why he didn't only shave the part that wasn't covered by his swim jammers, but apparently that would be weird, because then the lower leg would be shaved and the upper leg would be hairy.

It was a little difficult to continue my rant when so many things were hitting me like a ton of bricks all at once. The most jostling of which the curiosity at how his legs would feel, soft and shaven. Probably much like a girl, so it wouldn't really feel that different - or weird - to have his long legs wrapped around me.

The crazy-train whistled loudly so I shook my head furiously to bring myself to my senses.

"Maybe you should just let her," Heero suggested, leaning forward to rinse the razor in the layer of water and then starting again at the ankle.

"I'm sorry, what?" I blinked at him.

Heero rolled his eyes. "She doesn't necessarily want to get back together any more. She wants you to give her the opportunity to apologize and make it up to you. What's so bad about that?"

"Nothing, I guess," I grumbled, "But I'm still not in a forgiving mindset. Whenever she talks to me, I just want to pummel her with my braid. Is that bad?"

"Probably." He looked at me apologetically for thinking so. "It's oddly specific and weird too."

"Really?"

Heero temporarily put the razor down and raised one leg over the edge of the bathtub, straddling it, so he could face me. "What she did was really bad, but she didn't do it because she's a bitch. If she was, you two wouldn't have been friends first for such a long time."

"So why did she do it?"

Heero scoffed. "I don't know. Fear of losing you?" He turned around, swinging his leg over the edge back into the tub.

I sat down next to him with a sigh, balancing on the narrow edge. For a few minutes I watched him finish the task of shaving his legs, mesmerized by the motions of his hand as he dragged the razor along his long legs. When he stood up in the tub to reach the back of his thighs up to his briefs I looked away.

"Too bad I have to work tomorrow and the competition is in Pittsburg..." I commented, desperately searching for a different, more lighthearted topic to occupy my mind with.

"It's not going to be much of a competition anyway," Heero replied smugly. "They came in like three seconds behind us last time. Not exactly a photo-finish."

"Then why have you been training so much the last few days."

"Because I don't want Trowa to be faster than me," he said with a pout.

I laughed. "You do remember he is on your team, right?"

"But still..." he argued meaninglessly as he rinsed his legs with the shower head. "Help me out, will you? It will be tragic to slip and die like this."

I got up on my feet and took hold of his hand - his soft hand - when he reached it out to me and I held it tightly as he stepped out of the bathtub.

"Thanks."

"Sure."

We both looked away. So maybe things weren't completely back to normal yet.

Or maybe - just maybe - he noticed that my hands were sort of soft too. Or strong and big.

I groaned inwardly at myself.

Heero bent forward to pull the plug out of the bathtub and let the water drain. I had to look away because the sight of his ass, with his boxer briefs bunched up, wasn't something I had mentally prepared myself for and I feared a severe nosebleed would strike me as I strained to keep my thoughts from wandering into R-rated territory.

That was quite far from normal.

Fortunately I managed not to let it show and things settled down again once Heero had put his pants back on and we spent the rest of the evening working on his design project: me making new, more detailed sketches, as he talked me through it and gave me pointers. I couldn't help but be reminded of that previous Sunday and surely it crossed Heero's mind too, but it didn't affect either of us and we even ended up having fun.

The next day Heero and his team left on the university's varsity sport bus early in the afternoon, having a few hours on the road ahead of them. I cut my last class to see them off.

I walked next to Heero towards the parking lot where they were supposed to gather. Trowa and some of the other team members were already there, wearing matching navy blue sweat pants and vests and carrying duffel bags with the university's logo.

"Hey, dude." I shook Trowa's hand. "Good luck tonight."

He answered confidently: "I doubt we'll be needing it, but thanks."

I grinned at him. "So did you shave your legs?" I teased.

Rather than answering me Trowa faced Heero and commented dryly: "He is indeed fascinated with the leg shaving."

Heero nodded stoically and shrugged.

When the coach arrived the team was rounded up and made to board the bus. I wished Heero and Trowa good luck one last time, they both laughed it off. Then I headed back to the dorm. It was still early and I didn't have to go to work for a couple more hours so I wanted to get most of my homework for the beginning of next week done, leaving me the weekend to enjoy.

To get it over with I started work on my essay for philosophy class, but I barely managed to type a few words to make the Word page not look so desperately empty when there was a persistent knock on the door. I made a face because an unexpected visitor usually meant either Hilde or Relena and I contemplated ignoring it. But then I remembered I was in my twenties, not a baby, so I got up and opened the door.

"Carly," I identified, perplexed to see her. Carly was a raven haired goddess who majored in religious studies, most memorably though, she was one of the girls Heero had had sex with in the library. My dirty mind posed the question if she had been a study-room-girl or a restroom-girl, fully aware that that was of no significance whatsoever.

"Uhm, hi..." She squirmed. "I'm sorry, this is Heero's dorm room, right? Who are you?"

I was a little peeved she didn't know my name. It shouldn't have surprised me, we didn't share a single class, but I knew her name because she was so pretty and popular. I had clearly been overestimating my own reputation on campus when I had expected her to know who I was. "I'm Duo, I'm Heero's roommate."

"Heero isn't home?"

"No, I'm sorry, he's in Pittsburg for a competition. He won't be back until late at night." I noticed she was quite upset, so I asked with compassionate tone: "Are you alright?"

"Yeah, sure... I just have to tell him something."

Yikes, that didn't sound good. She's pregnant or she has an STD, I thought. I acknowledged that that was judgmental, but based on personal experience, I also knew those two were most likely, considering the circumstances. "If you want, I could leave him a message to call you as soon as he's done, or come over as soon as he's back here," I offered, with those two possibilities - pregnancy and STD - in mind, I understood if there was urgency to the matter.

She considered my offer, but eventually declined. "No, that's alright. Is he home tomorrow? I'll just stop by then."

"Yeah, he'll be home." He'll make sure he will be once I tell him of my suspicions.

"Okay, thanks. Bye."

"Bye..." I closed the door and mouthed: "Oh fuck".

I didn't get any homework done that afternoon. I tried, but failed miserably. I couldn't help but be assaulted by memories of my own, which were still fresh and painful like open wounds.

Prompted by Carly's unexpected visit and the ominous feeling she left me with, I remembered my time with Hilde, particularly how it ended, shortly before last summer break.

Hilde and I had been friends first, ever since Freshman year when mere coincidence teamed us up as introduction buddies during the first week of classes at the university. How could you not bond trying to figure out the massive copy machines or looking for the restrooms in the stretching corridors of the main building? At the time, I considered her my best friend, Heero was just "that guy I hate so fucking much". Things changed.

We started dating after coming back from Christmas break in our Junior year. It wasn't planned - not by me, anyway, I couldn't really say for sure whether or not she had orchestrated it - as far as I knew it just happened. She had organized a dinner in the common room of her dorm building, to celebrate her birthday with a small group of her closest friends, myself included. Relena was there too, she had worked her way into the inner circle really quickly after being paired with Hilde for a class at the start of the academic year. I always suspected Relena had something to do with the way things transpired from that point on.

After dinner, at a late hour, I helped Hilde clean up and to make the process more bearable she opened up another bottle of red wine and we made quick work of it as we shuttled plates back and forth between the dining room and the kitchen. We were laughing our ass off at nothing. We were really drunk. When we were done, I didn't want to go back to my dorm room. It was so late and I was so drunk, I knew I would wake up Heero stumbling into bed and I didn't want to do that because we had already had a heated discussion about me getting stupid drunk earlier that week. I guessed I just didn't want to sit through a speech before going to bed, when I could just as easily sleep on the couch in the living room of Hilde's building.

I settled on the couch and Hilde brought me a spare blanket. When she moved to drape it over me, she lost her balance and fell on top of me. First we laughed, but then, quickly, inexplicably, we were kissing and groping and grinding. I never managed to remember who initiated any of it.

The next morning I was hung over but what bothered me most was the guilt. I wasn't interested in Hilde that way, it had been a mistake to kiss her, but I could never tell her that because as soon as she saw me she kissed me again and told me how happy she was that we finally moved out of the friends-zone. Apparently she had been waiting for it for quite some time.

I figured I might as well date her and give her an honest shot, like I always did when I ended up randomly kissing or sleeping with a girl. Just because the feelings hadn't been there previously, didn't mean they couldn't blossom over time. And why wouldn't it work out? I thought to myself. We were great friends - no longer best friends because by then my hetero bromance with Heero was fully fledged - we obviously liked each other and trusted each other.

After only a few weeks I came to the same conclusion that eventually dawned on me with all my girlfriends: I wasn't in love with her. Momentarily I argued that that didn't matter, we got along and the sex was fine. I couldn't keep up that illusion for long. There was nothing there beyond a purely platonic friendship and each time she kissed me, or touched me, I was only bitterly reminded of the fact that even though I liked her kisses and touches, I didn't feel anything. This emptiness that had been within me for as long as I could remember, the emptiness that I expected to have filled with love once it would come to me, was painfully hollow and it didn't matter how many sweet nothings she whispered in my ear, they echoed off the walls and disappeared into the void darkness.

I had to break it off. I had been reluctant to do so, that is why my relationship with her lasted as long at it did, but I knew I had to. As I was working up the courage and searching for the right words, she must have noticed something was off. She had seen me do it to all my other girlfriends - fuck it, I even invited her to that damn coffee house; my break-up-coffee-house. She left promptly with Relena and two of her other friends for a road trip, cutting an entire week's worth of classes and being strategically unable to meet me at the coffee house.

When she came back, I had to gather my courage anew. I let a few days pass and then, as were strolling across campus, I told her I had to talk to her.

Hilde said in a quiet whisper, suddenly emotional: "I have to tell you something too."

"Oh..."

We found a park bench and sat down. I held her hands, they were trembling. I opened my mouth to tell her I loved her, just not in that way, but I was interrupted.

"I'm pregnant," she announced and then squeezed my hands as suddenly the tables had been turned and mine had been the ones to tremble.

My whole world was turned upside down. In that moment, not a single particle of me was happy at the news. Inside I was in a full state of panic. Needless to say, neither of us were ready to have a baby, we were both still in school, Hilde's family was poor, mine was rich but would never support us, especially not financially. But as scared as I was, I was determined not to be a coward.

I told her, on that park bench: "I promise I'll do the right thing."

Hilde asked me: "What is the right thing?"

"Whatever you want."

And I did.

After a few weeks, I asked her to marry me. I knew I had to get a fulltime job to support this new, young family, so I made preparations to leave school at the end of the academic year - both Heero and WuFei fervently tried to talk me out of it, but to no avail. Just to be sure, I joined my parents for dinner one weekend and told them of the situation and asked for any contribution they were willing to give. My father was so angry and disappointed that he proved me right and offered me nothing, even going as far as screaming that he was disowning me. My mother, too afraid to stand up to my father, didn't say anything. But once the tyrant had left the dinner table, kicking and screaming, she opened her purse and gave me all the cash money she had - a few hundred dollars - with an intensely apologetic expression.

The situation strained my relationship with Hilde even more. We fought constantly and drove each other crazy.

However, in the face of the hardship, I grew to love that baby that was growing inside her. I vowed to be a better father to that child than my father had been to me. I became more at ease with the upcoming changes. I hated that I had to leave school and my friend and jump head first into a deep, dark pool of responsibility and commitment that I honestly felt I wasn't ready for. The baby made everything worth it. Finally, I felt true love for someone and I would truly be loved back.

But that smidgen of happiness would come crashing down and join everything else in my life that was broken.

It was at a pre-final-exam party.

I had only a few more weeks of classes left before summer would start and I would drop out as planned. I already had a meaningless job lined up at a local supermarket as fresh-produce manager. But I was studying hard anyway, my teachers encouraged me to do so with the promise that they would always be available to give me good references, in spite of me not being able to attain my diploma.

The party was hosted each year, a good way to blow off steam and get rid of some of those pre-exam nerves.

Heero wasn't at the party, he was in our dorm room studying. Instead I had invited WuFei, I figured it would be a good chance for us to bond. He didn't agree with the decisions I had made regarding Hilde and that had caused tension between us. The party was huge, encompassing several dorm buildings and the sprawled lawns between them. With every step you took red plastic cups crunched under your feet as even the grass got drunk on spilt alcohol.

I had lost sight of Hilde as WuFei and I went our own way, exploring the party and talking to other people. I candidly shared my experiences of the past few weeks with him.

"Hilde and I aren't really getting along. Doing the right thing sure never felt so wrong. we fight constantly and she doesn't even seem like herself anymore. She is not the friend I used to know. And what frustrates me endlessly is that she still refuses to tell anybody that she is pregnant! She is only going to end up alienating her friends like this, by springing it on them at the last moment, when her belly will be starting to show. Oh God and she is always so vague when I ask her if she is making any arrangements with school or if she talked to her uncle about subletting that apartment of his downtown!"

WuFei offered me nothing of more value than a few nods and "ahuh's". He clearly stuggled suppressing his opinion on the matter: that he didn't agree with any of it.

I didn't want to have another fight with him, so I changed the subject. "Heero is not going to like this loud music!" I told WuFei as we walked along. I raised my hand in a greeting at one of the guys on the basketball team. Basketball, I mused, I was going to miss that. I had to be an adult now, a responsible adult. How much time will there be left for games when you're working double shifts to support the baby that demands all your remaining spare time?

"I'm guessing: no!" He looked around a little uncomfortably and then asked: "Building B is yours, right? Do you mind if I use the bathroom there?"

I snorted at him. "WuFei, you can just use the bathroom here." I gestured at dorm building D by which we were standing.

He made a face and then headed off in the direction of Building B.

So much for our bonding experience, I thought as I found myself alone, partying people all around me. I looked at their smiling faces and realized I wasn't going to miss any of them. The only one I would miss, was Heero. Heero disagreed with my radical approach as much as WuFei, but, surprisingly, he was more tactic in his approach, not yelling at me or judging me like WuFei, only stealing quiet moments to ask me with evident concern if I was sure about what I was doing.

Of course I wasn't.

I hoped we would stay in touch and I promised him I would do my best to maintain our friendship, but I had to be realistic.

Being realistic made me sick though, so I went over to the set-up of tables at the front of building D and got myself a beer. I preferred a blistering headache in the morning over heartache at night.

A few minutes later WuFei found me in the crowd, he looked distraught.

"I know," I commented dryly, "we haven't cleaned it in quite some time..." in reference to the dorm's bathrooms.

He shook his head, then seemed at a loss for words.

"Are you okay? You look like you've seen a ghost."

He frowned deeply and stuffed his hands into the pockets of his jeans. "I did see... something..."

Not yet aware of the seriousness of the situation, I joked: "Was someone running around naked? Did he happen to have bright yellow hair?" It wouldn't be the first time...

"I saw Hilde," he started and after a pause he finally admitted: "drinking."

"Like a glass of ice tea?"

"Like a bottle of tequila."

"What?!" I stared at him. I couldn't believe him. I literally couldn't and didn't believe him. "Why would you say that?"

He looked back incredulously. "Because that is what I saw!"

"You're lying!"

He scoffed, offended. "I'm not. I saw her by building C with Relena, drinking straight from a bottle of tequila."

I shook my head furiously. I honestly thought he was just saying those things to cause a rift between me and Hilde, so I would dump her and stay in school, the latter of which being exactly what he and Heero had been trying to convince me of all that time. "I can't believe you are fucking saying this shit! She is pregnant with my child, she wouldn't drink! She fucking knows better than that!"

That caught the attention of the people in our direct vicinity, so from that point on we had a sizeable audience.

"Fuck you, Duo! If you seriously think I would lie about a thing like that..." He grunted and balled his fists in anger. He seethed: "Look, I hadn't been meaning to say it, because I couldn't really believe it to be true myself, but now it seems like I should tell you... I've suspected for a while now that she is not pregnant."

"You asshole!" I screamed. "How twisted do you have to be to think someone would lie about something like that? Not just someone, but my friend, my girlfriend- my fiancé!"

"Duo, calm down. Think about it! She hasn't been to a doctor yet and refuses to go. You are making all these plans and she's not taking any of it seriously. And now she is drinking, when clearly Hilde would know better than that! You said yourself that you thought she suspected you were about to break up with her, right before she told you she was pregnant! I think she panicked and lied!"

I was so angry, there were no words. There was only my fist.

In my memory I saw my balled up fist flying through the air in slow motion and I could see the movement in his skin and his head knock back as I hit him in the face.

He visibly restrained himself from hitting me back. When his anger subsided, he was left looking hurt, emotionally hurt. "I've been your friend since... forever," he reminded me with a heartfelt tone. "And now you can't even trust me?"

WuFei left and he never came back.

Considering how things turned out, I should have called him, I should have apologized. But I hadn't yet found the strength to do so. I didn't understand what got in the way, maybe pride, maybe embarrassment... maybe I was still angry - not because of what he told me that night, but because he didn't share those concerns with me sooner.

The day after the party Hilde was hung over and in tears. In between the sobs she could barely speak, but she managed to finally tell me the truth. WuFei's suspicions had been spot on.

She had never been pregnant.

This truth should have liberated me. I didn't have to quit school. I didn't have to leave Heero. I didn't have to take on a dead-end job. And I didn't have to marry the girl I once liked but never loved and never would.

Strangely though, in that moment, as she wept and I fell silent, color drained from my face, I just felt sad and empty once more. Not a single particle of me felt relieved. A perfect mirror image of when we had been sitting on that park bench.

I didn't really know how to mourn the loss of something that I had apparently never had, so I reverted to anger and indifference. Anger towards Hilde. Indifference towards the memories. I knew that it wasn't healthy, but I didn't know how else to deal with it.

By the end of the summer, I was finally relieved. I would always be the disappointing son, to my dad, but at least all that talk about disownment was over. I would be able to finish my studies. I would happily remain Heero's roommate and close friend for another year. And I was free to live my own life - not being married to a person who could tell such a horrible lie. But it was a long road getting there.

It caused me physical hurt to think that Heero might be on the precipice of similar drama.

After a painful walk down memory lane - like barefoot through a pile of glass - I effortfully tucked everything aside and went to work. Dull co-worker Martin didn't offer me much distraction, but at least a group of cute girls and generous tippers walked in to make the night more bearable.

I tried to stay awake and wait for Heero, but I was mentally exhausted. I intended to take a seat on Heero's lower bunk for a quick rest, but that evolved to laying down and resting my eyes and that evolved to falling asleep with my work clothes and shoes still on, probably drooling on the pillowcase because even unconscious I made an effort to make an awkward situation even worse.

The awkward situation being being awoken with a start by Heero accidentally letting the closet door fall shut as he changed clothes for his morning run.

"Oops." He tilted his head as he gazed down at me and started chuckling. "Good morning sleeping beauty."

I glared at him. I knew my hair was a fucking mess in the morning and the dark circles under my eyes as the result of catching only a few hours of sleep probably weren't flattering either.

Of course Heero looked perky as ever, even after a short night.

Damn those morning people.

I sat up and heavily rubbed my eyes. "Did you win?"

"With a 2.7 second average," Heero boasted, pulling his hoodie over his head.

"Cool. One thing though," I said with groggy voice, "you can't go running, someone might be stopping by for you today."

He looked down at his watch, then back at me with a raised eyebrow. "At seven AM, on a Saturday?"

"It may be kind of an urgent issue..."

"What do you mean?" He innocently inquired.

"Carly stopped by last night, looking for you."

Heero sat down in his desk chair and started putting on his shoes. "Carly? What could she possibly want?"

"She's one of the girls you slept with, right?" I verified.

"Yeah."

"And that is all you guys ever did together?"

He scoffed. "What else would we be doing together? She's a religious studies major, not exactly a lot of overlap with my classes."

There was really no pain-free way of easing him into this, so I blurted: "Well, the last time a girl had to "tell me something", she told me she was pregnant."

He snapped his head up. His eyes were a little wider than usual as he stared at me. "What are you getting at?"

"Or maybe she just has an STD..." I tried to appease, regretting blurting out my own tainted concerns as I saw the stricken expression on his face.

"Just an STD?!" He rose out of the chair, his shoelaces not even tied yet. "So what? I'm either going to be a father for the rest of my life or have a burning sensation when I pee for a couple of days? What exactly did she tell you?" He demanded to know.

"Nothing, really. But come on, you have sex with this girl once - no other relation or connection - and a couple weeks later she's at your door all squirmy and uncomfortable announcing that she has to "tell you something"? She has either taken a pregnancy test or an STD test with a positive result."

He blinked at me in shock. "So she told you nothing of any meaning?"

"No..."

"So basically you just freaked me out when it could be nothing?"

Now it was my turn to squirm. "I may have overreacted... I didn't catch a lot of sleep..."

He threw his hands into the air. "Unbelievable. And you opened with pregnant?"

"My mind just immediately went there, you understand," I muttered apologetically. I still feared I would turn out to be right and it was one of those two unpleasant options, but I recognized I shouldn't have scared him with my own biased suspicions.

Exasperated he slumped down next to me on the edge of his bed. "Did she say when she would be stopping by?"

"Not really..."

He let out a deep sigh. "I guess I can't go running now anyway. The added vascular strain might give me a heart attack."

I noticed his fingers were nervously fumbling with the elastic cords of his hoodie.

"Do you really think she could be pregnant?" He asked after a long silence.

I wished I could tell him no, but I couldn't. I knew the temptation of foregoing protection when you are right in the middle of the things when the realization hits you that you used that back-up condom in your wallet the previous week and never took care to replace it. I noted: "The question is: do you? Did you always use protection?"

He scrunched up his face. "Not every time..."

"Heero!"

"I didn't always have them with me," he defended, "and some of those girls were really... insistent. But they were on the pill, so..."

"Goddammit, of the two of us you are supposed to be the smart guy!" I reminded him.

He snorted. "Like you are the poster boy for safe sex! You got lucky nothing ever really happened, but if that had been due to your own vigilance and care, you would have never been fooled by Hilde's lie."

"Yes and might I remind you of all those instances since when I have had to suffer all of your condom-jokes, very few of those being funny, if I may boldly state so. So get off your high horse, your highness."

"Fuck!" He exclaimed in frustration.

I sighed, remembering that my role as friend was not to antagonize him in moments like that, but rather to consolidate him. "It's probably an STD," I told him. "Did you use a condom with Carly, or was she one of the birth-control-pill-girls?"

He bit his lip. "I don't remember..."

"Wow... you really are a slut..." I remarked.

"Thank you for the social commentary, fellow man-whore," he shot back.

I laughed.

"It's not funny," he gave me a halfhearted push against my shoulder.

"Look, if she was either on the pill or you used a condom, the chances that she is pregnant are very remote. It's probably just an STD. Or maybe nothing."

"Just an STD?"

"Or maybe it's nothing!" I repeated, back-paddling at the sight of his angry glare. "Maybe she just wants your help... with her religious studies..." I scrunched up my face. "Or! Or maybe she stopped by for a bootycall."

He looked so incredulous he nearly went cross-eyed. "If you think it could be nothing, why did you scare me with this stuff?"

"You can't blame me! I'm traumatized!" I tried to defend childishly. "She came by yesterday and I spent all day caught up in my own head remembering what had happened between me and Hilde. I just got freaked out!"

We both flinched at the sudden knock on the door.

Heero whipped his head around to look at the locked door, then back at me with frightened eyes.

"It'll be fine," I assured him, still not entirely convinced myself. But my judgment, I knew, was clouded by all the feelings that had flooded me since my memory got jostled yesterday. If only I had realized that sooner, before scaring my best friend half to death. However, the fact that the issue was apparently important enough to stop by this early in the morning, did add to my concern.

There was another, louder knock, then a muffled voice coming from one of the other rooms, yelling: "For fuck's sake if you're going to have visitors at this hour at least open the goddamn door at the first fucking knock!"

Nash wasn't really a morning person.

Heero got up and opened the door with stiff movements and an impassive expression. As expected he was met by Carly, looking as upset and fidgety as she had the previous day.

"Hey Heero," she breathed, clutching her fingers around the straps of her shoulder bag. "Can we talk, in private?"

Heero shot me a look, then replied with odd, strained voice: "Sure. Let's go outside." They headed out together.

With wildly beating heart I waited for them to return. I couldn't help but lose myself in disconcerting imaginations of what kind of conversation they could be having in that very moment. I was somewhat relieved when Heero returned quickly, he hadn't been away from more than five minutes.

I shot up and, as luck would have it, hit my head on the supporting beam of the top bunk, causing me to curse loudly. I rubbed my abused, throbbing head and grumbled inwardly: all those years of sleeping in that bottom bunk and still...! I composed myself and asked as calmly as possible: "So, what did she say?"

"It's the clap!" Heero made a big, frustrated gesture with his arms, then dropped them back to his sides. "She has the clap. She doesn't know when she got it, so she doesn't know if she passed it on to me, but I have to get tested to be sure..."

He was clearly upset, so I recognized it was inappropriate for me to express how relieved I was that it didn't turn out to be a mirror image of my own nightmare of last year. I tried to calm him: "Well, that's not too bad..."

"I might have gonorrhea! How, in any way, is that "not too bad"?" He demanded angrily.

A little threatened I took a step back and raised my hands in surrender. "Easy there, I didn't give it to you."

At my comment I could see his thoughts following mine down a dangerous path that was laid by the suggestion I had brazenly made last weekend, so I distracted us both by continuing: "It could have been worse."

My tentative comment seemed to deflate him. He released a deep breath and then slumped down into his desk chair.

Not the result I was going for, I thought to myself. I didn't want him to be angry, but apparent utter despair was no viable alternative. "Heero?"

"It could have been worse," he vehemently agreed with me. "What if she, or any of the other girls, had gotten pregnant? Or what if it hadn't been gonorrhea but HIV?"

With a sigh I sat down next to him and after brief hesitation decided to place my hand on his knee in an attempt to comfort him. "There's no need for you to go there. Don't make the same mistake I did and freak out over nothing. It's just gono. You might not even have it."

He buried his head in his hands. "I can't believe how stupid I have been. I have no money for stuff like this. I have no money for illegitimate babies, STD tests or medicine. I have to finish school and take care of my grandmother, how can I do that if I would get someone pregnant or get sick?" Heero looked up at me with desperate eyes.

I bit my lip. Cautiously, I wondered: "I don't mean to sound blunt, but why didn't you consider this before? Why didn't you just say no when you didn't have a condom?"

His face became red with embarrassment. "I... I guess..." He groaned and finally admitted: "I guess I just liked being wanted... or something..."

"I get that... but, come on. Who wouldn't want you?" Dangerous path! Dangerous path! Abort! Abort! Abort!

He made a face but thanked me for the sentiment anyway. "Oh God," he started, "now I have to call my dad and tell him everything and ask for his money to get tested."

Knowing how much he hated his dad - especially owing him - and still feeling guilty as my initial overreaction was part of why he was so incredibly upset, I offered: "I could pay for tests and treatment if you need it."

He shook his head, "No, I couldn't-"

"Of course you can! Hey, you know what? We'll make of a day of it," I suggested with a lighthearted smile. "Yeah, we'll go down to the clinic on Monday and we'll both get tested, for everything! It probably isn't a bad idea to get myself tested as well and then it won't be as embarrassing as going alone. We can be man-whores together, split the judgment fifty-fifty."

He chuckled softly. "Really?"

"Sure, I make decent money at the on campus bar. And, I mean, how can I not get ridiculously large tips with hair like this," I joked and I pulled my braid over my shoulder.

"Thanks. I promise I'll pay you back."

"No need," I assured him.

"I insist."

"Okay, okay, whatever helps you sleep at night."

We shared a laugh and then Heero decided to go on his run after all, to clear his head. Since I was already up I took a shower and then spent the morning and early afternoon doing the homework I had been too distracted to do yesterday. Then later that day I got out of Heero's way - he needed the entire surface of the desk for his blueprints and textbooks - so I organized an impromptu basketball game with some guys from my team and friends from school. It ended with my teammates being angry with me because I was too absentminded to play decently and missed several easy lay-ups. I couldn't tell them what had me so preoccupied, even though they kept asking in frustration. I couldn't tell them that I had been reconsidering my "crazy" plan from last week, now that Heero seemed understandably reluctant to continue his random sexual activity with girls he barely knew, or not at all.

Man, am I fucked up or not? I asked myself with disdain. My friend is struggling with feelings and past mistakes and all I could think about was how I could put a spin on that so he'll be willing to give a friends with benefits deal a try.

Still, as repulsed as I was by my own selfishness and disregard for his strong rejection of the suggestion, I couldn't deny the simple, albeit admittedly twisted logic behind the thoughts running through my mind. Suddenly, stepping aboard this train was less and less questionable. We wouldn't have to worry about unplanned and unwanted pregnancies and if we both get tested and turn out to be clean, STD's wouldn't be a concern either. The 'Yeah, but...' feeling decided that those were two very powerful arguments.

For the duration of the weekend Heero was as caught up in his own thoughts as I was. I wondered what he was thinking about and in quiet moments I dared to think he may have been starting to acknowledge the fact that my idea wasn't as crazy as it had initially sounded.

Whatever he was thinking, things reverted back into the weird between us. But he came home Sunday night after his much hated dinner with his father, unlike last week, so I assumed we were still in the clear.

When Monday arrived Heero had grown to be so nervous he didn't even scoff at me when I suggested cutting classes so we could head for the clinic immediately to get tested. Much to my amazement he instantly agreed. I marveled at the realization that it would be the first time for him to miss classes in over three years, it reminded me of how this issue must be weighing down on him, whereas I had been making light of it and focusing on my own perverted brain farts.

Sitting next to him in the train - Heero insisted on going to a clinic out of town, too afraid to be recognized - noticing how tense he was, made me feel really sorry for him. When Hilde told me she was pregnant, my whole world crumbled down into an unrecognizable pile of chaos. It was very hurtful to be confronted with the changes I would have to make in my life to take responsibility, but at least I didn't have other responsibilities that required my devoted effort. It was different for Heero, his grandmother had been sick for a long time. It was up to him to work his ass off every summer and finish school to get a well-paid job so he could foot the bill for her care. He had told me she meant the world to him, that she was the only one who ever accepted, supported and loved him. Not even his mother, nor his father, could give him that. He had promised not to let her down, he had promised to give back what she had given him.

Looking at him I fully realized how devastated he must have been to have come so close to jeopardizing his promise.

I placed a hand on his shoulder, trying to show my support and understanding in a single gesture, because I felt that I would just end up making a fool of myself if I would try to explain with words. "Are you okay?" I asked with a soft tone.

"Fine," he shrugged, causing my hand to slip from his shoulder, I was inclined to think that was intentional, "just thinking about stuff."

"Okay."

The loaded silence between us lasted the rest of the way to the clinic and the forty-five minutes we spent in the waiting room, avoiding eye-contact with everyone, including each other.

A door opened and a doctor appeared, reading from a piece of paper our names droned through the waiting room.

"That's us," I concluded dumbly and together with Heero I followed the doctor into the examination room.

He shook both our hands with a polite introduction and a kind smile. "So, on the form you indicated that you would both like to get tested for a variety of STD's..." he looked down at what I assumed to be the form I had filled in earlier, when we first arrived.

Seeing as Heero had been reduced to a mute by nerves and concern, I answered: "We sure do."

"Is there any reason to suspect that either of you may have caught an STD?" He continued.

"Uhh... yeah," I looked at Heero for any kind of input, but got nothing, he just stared at the ground. "Maybe gonorrhea, but we don't know for sure. We would just like to be tested for the major and common STD's, just to be sure."

He smiled at me. "Well, I think that is a very wise decision and I command you for coming here and taking this responsibility, the spreading of STD's is a real problem amongst gay youths because they often skip the use of condoms as there is no risk of pregnancy."

Good thing I was in a doctor's office because there was a real chance my eyes would have popped out of the sockets and I would need professional medical assistance to put them back in. A quick glance confirmed Heero was in the same state of shock. "Uh- Uhh... You misunderstand... We're not together or anything. We're not gay." I let out a sheepish chuckle.

"Oh, I apologize, I just assumed because you came in together."

"Nonononono..." I fervently shook my head.

"Then lets move past my embarrassing mistake and just get started," the doctor suggested, putting away our forms. "Now, because you want to get tested for multiple STD's I'm going to draw two vials of blood from each, just to be sure that we have enough to run all the tests. You are college men, you know how lab techs can be," he joked, making me very uncomfortable.

We were both directed to take a seat on the edge of the examination table and to roll up our sleeves as the doctor prepared the vials and syringes.

The process was fairly painless but I did find it to be somewhat weird to see my own, dark blood run into those vials. I never thought I would be squeamish about blood, but it turned out I wasn't completely cool with it and as the filling of the first vial had satisfied my curiosity, I opted not to look at all as he filled a second and also purposefully looked the other way as he did Heero.

Once he was finished he explained: "This is a relatively small amount of blood, so I don't suspect you'll experience any faintness or dizziness, but just to be sure I do recommend you don't strain yourself too much for the rest of the day."

"Can I get that on a note, because I have basketball practice at the end of the day and I would love to get out of that."

The doctor chuckled. "Sure, I'll write a note."

As the doctor sat behind his desk to write that note as promised, Heero whispered to me: "You're really going to show coach Hartford that note? You know he's going to tell everybody. Won't you be embarrassed?"

I shrugged. "Not at all. I've been tested before and so have the other guys. It really isn't a big deal. I'm sure I'll be the butt of a couple of jokes, but nothing out of the ordinary. Don't worry, I won't tell anyone you got tested as well."

"Thanks."

The doctor sent us home to experience the weirdest week of our lives. It was like we were both caught in the twilight zone. I didn't really understand what was going on between us, but I blamed it partly on Heero being stressed out about the potential results of the tests and partly because the doctor thought we were gay and thus resurfaced a very strained topic for us. At first I suspected the mistake had been so insulting to him that he didn't know how to behave around me anymore, but then, during lunch, I caught him staring at me and that made my mind wander into a different direction.

I wondered if maybe he had hopped on board of the crazy train, speeding towards meaningless-gay-sex-between-straight-friends-metropolis.

The next Monday, I would finally get my answer.

At the end of the day there was basketball practice. I wished I could recycle my doctor's note, but if I wanted to stay on the team, I had no choice but to be present and to cooperate and feign a personal investment in our losing team.

We spent the first hour in the indoor basketball court, perfecting our shots and passes and then coach Hartford chased us outside with his shrill whistle for another hour of circling the track.

"I hate him. I hate him," Obie seethed at my side as we gathered at the start line.

"Trust me, if I had any confidence that I would be able to leave no forensic trace, I would have long murdered him..." I glared at Hartford as he called over one of the other guys to him to yell at him for no apparent reason. "It's just that the way I envision killing him is kind of messy and hands-on..."

Obie snorted. "Amen to that."

Hartford turned to us, "If my disappointing lead scorer and equally unimpressive captain are finished chatting, we can start." He called over his assistant who approached us with a cart filled with basketballs. Hartford took one out and spun it on his index finger. "You won't just be running today, you'll be dribbling. And there is no particular amount of laps after which you can leave, you will be running and dribbling a full hour and no slacking off either."

We groaned collectively and then stepped forward to get a ball from the cart.

"His methods are kind of extreme..." I noted in dismay.

Unfortunately Hartford heard me and yelled at me: "I wouldn't have to be extreme if this team would just start winning games. But there are no such miracles in sports, captain. My methods will be extreme until the performance of this team will not cause me to cry myself to sleep at night."

I raised my eyebrows at Obie, turning my back to the coach and mouthed: Pathetic.

He chuckled.

Coach Hartford blew his whistle and so the hour long nightmare began.

The sound of fifteen basketballs of the main players and back-up players, bouncing along the tracks, I quickly found to be unbelievably irritating so I muttered curses and quiet rants under my breath. On my fourth lap I coincidentally looked up and spotted Heero standing on the bleachers, leaning against the front railing. When he spotted me he waved me over. He looked rattled.

I heard a whistle and the coach screaming form the other end of the field: "You can talk to your boyfriend later, captain!"

I ignored him. He was on the other side and I knew him to be too lazy to come running over, so I had some time before he would get so angry that he would punish me after the fact. "Hey," I breathed. I grabbed the hem of my shirt and pulled it up to wipe the sweat off my brow. Because the sound of all those balls had been annoying me so much, I had been going really fast to stay ahead of the main group. The speed had clearly taken it's toll as my breath came in sharp pants. "What's up?"

"I got a call from the clinic," he announced.

"Well?"

"We're both clean. The nurse was still under the impression that we were a couple and considering the results she had no qualms divulging the results of your tests as well..."

"Great! So what's with the face?" I inquired innocently.

"When will you be done here?"

I looked down at my watch, disappointed at how little time it had been. It felt like I had been dribbling that damn ball around that track for ages. "A while, he's making us stay till six and I told the guys we would go out for pizza afterwards. Why?"

With a serious expression he informed me: "I need to talk to you."

"You're not pregnant, are you?" I joked, then mock-gasped. "Are you breaking up with me?"

He didn't respond to my jokes. "I just need to talk to you."

"Okay..." I drawled. "I can skip dinner with the guys if you want."

"No, that's fine. Go out for pizza's, I'll see you when you get back." Without further ado he turned around and walked away with quickened gait.

My heart was racing and not just because I had been physically exerting myself. I wondered what it was he wanted to talk about. I had a suspicion, but I didn't dare to think along those lines. I might get myself excited over nothing.

"Captain!"

"Yeah... yeah... yeah..." I continued jogging, dribbling my ball along. In the remaining hour I did fumble with my ball a lot and let it get away from me. After Heero's brief visit I was just in completely different headspace. Heero could just as easily have had something to tell me that I wouldn't like and that possibility had me worried.

Understandably I rushed through dinner, wolfing down two slices of pizza - and two quickly downed bottles of beer for courage - and then promptly leaving with the excuse that I wasn't feeling well. Not a total lie, the nerves and uncertainty had me feeling a little queasy, the bit of tentative excitement that was thrown in the mix didn't help my stomach settle down.

"Heero?" I blurted when I opened the door to our dorm room. I dropped my gym bag to the floor and carefully assessed the situation.

Heero was sitting at the desk, as was usual, innocently involved in his studies. He finished writing something down in the corner of one of the blueprints spread out in front of him before he spun the desk chair around to face me with an uncanny blank expression. "Duo," he greeted in his monotone, immediately alerting me to the fact that something had him worked up.

"What's up, buddy? You wanted to talk about something?" I leaned against the frame of the bed, casual as you please.

Not even attempting to ease either of us into the repeat of last week's tumultuous discussion, he asked bluntly: "Do you still think about having sex with me?"

His face was unreadable, his tone didn't give me anything to work with either. He had pushed me out onto thin ice. The truth was that I had still been thinking about it, but what if that was not what he wanted to hear? I had promised him I would drop it, that I would forget about it and never mention it again. To uphold that promise and possibly stifling new anger, I contemplated lying. But I bit my lip before I rushed to say "No". What if he was looking for the truth? What if he expected a "Yes" and wanted a "Yes"? What if he had swayed in favor of giving this friends with benefits thing a try? If I said "Yes" it might get interesting. If I said "No", I could count on him immediately being unwilling.

Rock. Duo. Hard place.

Inadvertently I had let his question hang in the thick air for a suspicious amount of time. His eyes narrowed as he settled a glare on me that aimed to pry the answer out of me with the sheer, unspoken promise of pain if I tried to babble my way out of this.

How was I supposed to answer him? Moreover, what if I said "Yes" and that was what he wanted to hear? What the fuck would happen then? The reality of that slight but not non-existent possibility daunted me.

"I guess I would have to say..." I let my sentence trail off, stalling, desperately searching for more time to think.

One of his eyebrows raised expectantly.

Cowardly as I was, I eventually just settled for asking: "Why?"

"I need to know," was his instant, matter-of-fact reply.

"Okay..." Still stalling. I looked at him, really looked at him, rather than nervously staring back, half hidden behind my sloppy bangs. His expression revealed nothing to me that would clearly indicate either answer. Yet I knew what I had to say. I had to take a risk because I realized with an appropriate degree of embarrassment and confusion: I wanted to... do stuff with him. I wasn't yet sure if sex was one of those things, but I did know "stuff" came closer to sex than to miniature golf, on the spectrum of social activity.

I may have been alone in the thought that a guy doesn't have to be gay to enjoy doing "stuff" with another guy on a purely physical level, but I had to give it a try. If it turned out bad, at least I would find some solace in the fact that I didn't lie.

"Yes."

For a moment he just stared at me, then he started nodding, slowly and continuously as he tilted his head to look the other way thoughtfully.

"Is that bad?" I dreaded to ask.

He didn't respond, instead, he wondered, without making eye-contact: "What exactly do you think about?"

Still on thin ice cracking and crunching beneath my feet, I bit the inside of my cheek before cautiously answering: "I don't really know. It's not like I have scenarios playing in my head. It's just... I guess I just still think we could make it work and that it might be... kind of fun."

"But what would be do?-"

"Heero, why are you asking me this?" I interrupted impatiently, eager for resolution and solid footing.

He aimed his intense gaze back up at me, causing a shiver to run up my spine - which I would furiously deny if asked. Hesitantly, he started to explain. "I don't want to sleep with girls anymore-" he shook his head. "I mean- You know what I mean. I don't want to sleep with girls anymore if I'm not in a relationship with them. I thought it would be fine, but now this has happened. And it's not just about what could happen to me. What if Carly had given me gono? And I had given it to other girls? I would feel horrible... I do feel horrible. I know nothing bad necessarily has to happen, but it could and it made me think about whether or not it is all worth the risk."

I held my breath as I waited for the conclusion.

"Carly was so humiliated to have to tell me. So even though I didn't get her sick, or lead or her on, I still ended up hurting her. That's not what I want. Not for myself and not for them. So I'm not going to do that stuff in the library anymore."

It seemed like he was done and that slightly disappointed me. I had expected there to be more. So I pressed innocently: "That's cool. I think it's a mature decision. So are you going to start dating now?"

"No," he answered in a heartbeat, looking up at me meaningfully. "I don't want to date. I don't have time and honestly... I'm just not interested in that right now."

"Cool," I repeated neutrally. "I guess you could rock the total abstinence thing. I think there is even a club for that at the university."

"I don't want to join that club."

"Oh... You're right, you shouldn't. They always seemed like a bunch of weirdo's to me, not because of the abstinence thing but because they made a club for it-"

"Jesus, Duo! Do I have to spell it out for you?!" He looked dutifully uncomfortable and frustrated.

My heart skipped a beat at his outburst. "I guess not..." I responded as I started to dare to believe that this was heading in an interesting direction.

He rose out of his seat and with big gestures and while pacing the room, he argued: "It's not because I'm sex-crazed or a pervert or anything! But I'm a guy! I- I guess... I have needs. I just think it's going to be a long time before I have the time and interest for a real relationship. I have to finish school at the top of my class and get a good job and I have to work my ass off so I can put my grandmother in a decent home and pay back my dad because I sure as hell am not going to owe him a single dime when all is said and done-"

"Heero!" I stepped in front of him and grabbed his shoulders, making him look me in the eye. "It's okay, I'm not judging you. I'm the one who first suggested this shit, remember?"

"Right," he agreed breathlessly.

With a quieter voice I queried: "I though the mere thought freaked you out. What changed your mind?"

"I don't know yet if I have changed my mind. I thought maybe... we could try some stuff before we decide," he replied meekly, his cheeks red.

I chuckled. "Okay."

His eyes were big with shock and fear. "Okay," he concurred, looking a little disturbed.

"Okay," I repeated, letting my hands drop from his shoulders - I hadn't even realized I had still been holding him. "So... You want to try some stuff right now?" I wouldn't have suggested rushing it like this if it wasn't for the fact that I was acutely aware that I was turned on and kind of eager to explore the potential of this new arrangement.

"Right now?!"

"No time like the present," I pointed out with a little smirk.

"Here?"

I cocked my head and raised my eyebrow. "Would you prefer the library restrooms?"

He glared at me.

"Then I think right here will be just fine." I inconspicuously wiped my sweaty palms on my shirt and then moved towards the door and locked it. The click of the lock had never been so loud. I slowly approached him. It had been my idea, but I hadn't really thought it through. I had no idea what was supposed to happen, or how to go about making anything happen at all.

He abruptly took a step back. "We're not going to have sex right away, right?"

"No, of course not!" I assured him.

He visibly relaxed. "So then... what are we going to do?"

I didn't really know, I had given it surprisingly little practical thought, considering how much the idea had been occupying me for over three weeks now. With girls the first step to being intimate - sexually - was kissing and since no better option came to me, I figured that was where we could start. I came to stand closer to him. Heero quirked an eyebrow at me, not knowing what was going to happen. Did I?

For some reason the prospect of kissing my friend made me feel a little bit uncomfortable, even though the idea of doing more than that hadn't appeared so odd to me. Maybe kissing was too romantic, yet it felt weird to me to skip that step and jump right into more serious stuff.

I decided I should just get it over with. Make the first move, follow through and hope the awkwardness would gradually fade away. So with the most unromantic, unsensual determination I pushed my face forward, towards Heero. But as quick as I had been to lean in, he was even quicker in his retreat, straining his neck as he kept himself out of reach. He masked his shocked expression with one of annoyance.

"What are you doing?" He demanded to know, his voice a little more shrill than usual.

For a moment I could only return a quizzical look, no words. It seemed like I would be stating the obvious. So rather than spelling it out for him, I retorted sarcastically: "What do you think I'm doing, you genius you?" I suspected the source of my frustration - and accompanying sarcasm - was the fact that I was more than a little peeved at being so unambiguously denied. That didn't happen often. Or at all. I didn't know why it offended me. Maybe I had just expected my bravery to be rewarded. He sure as hell wasn't making any notable effort.

"I don't want to do that," he stated, his eyes cold and focused, but his tone nervous. "I don't see why we would do that. It's too weird and too intimate."

He had probably raised a valid point, so why did I still feel something that too closely resembled disappointment? I couldn't deny his logic. Why would we kiss if this is purely for the benefit of physical gratification? Kissing is good but it doesn't get me off. We were two straight guys, it wasn't supposed to be romantic, or natural or lengthy for that matter, so there was really no point in foreplay. However, though I agreed it was intimate, I wasn't quite sure if 'too intimate' was correct, considering all the other things I had been thinking of these past weeks as part of a friends with benefits arrangement far exceeded the level of intimacy of a straightforward kiss.

I didn't want to give it too much thought, so I agreed with him and tried to alleviate the unbearable tension between us by adding a joke. "Okay, okay, Pretty Woman, no kissing."

From the look in his eyes I could instantly tell the joke was not appreciated and thus did not serve it's purpose.

"Fuck you!" He gave me a push against my chest.

Realizing there had been a break-down in communication I explained to him sheepishly: "It's a movie reference! Pretty Woman is a movie about a hooker who doesn't want to kiss her clients because she thinks it is too intimate." I had expected to see a sliver of recognition in his eyes. I had personally seen this classic chick flick several times, nearly all my previous girlfriends loved it and wanted to watch it with me. Considering my patience would afterwards be rewarded with sex, I made few objections.

But then I remembered Heero had never actually dated, he had never had a girlfriend, so of course he didn't understand the reference and thought I had called him a girl.

Heero seemed to relax a little bit, but with a frown he wondered aloud: "So you didn't call me a pretty woman, you just compared me to a hooker?"

I chuckled. "Well, when you put it like that..." I offered him a smile. "You are stalling," I mildly accused him.

He sighed. Caught, he must have thought.

"We could still back out, you know? We don't have to..." However, I really hoped he didn't want to back out. I couldn't tell him that part of me - the majority of me - had been anticipating this eagerly, all awkwardness aside. I couldn't tell him that because I didn't even feel completely comfortable admitting that to myself.

"No, I..." he tentatively started, but he never finished his sentence and I was left wondering if he had stopped just short of saying: I want this.

Before he could change his mind, I suggested: "Maybe we could try something different, to ease into it and see if us being together sexually is something we can be okay with."

He nodded. "Okay. Like what?"

I briefly contemplated our options and quickly realized that the least invasive and confrontational thing to do was: "Mutual masturbation?" I shivered again, at that word.

He gave it some thought. "I guess that's a good place to start..." He bit his lip.

Recognizing that I was burdened with the responsibility of taking the lead in this novel situation I suggested we sat down, and promptly did so, on the floor, my back leaning against the side of the bed.

Heero followed my lead, sitting down next to me but leaving a space of over two feet between us.

"We're going to have to be a little closer if we seriously want to figure out if we want to do stuff together eventually," I emphasized 'together'.

"How much closer?"

I shrugged and then scooted over, closing the distance between us. When I settled back against the bed we were sitting shoulder to shoulder. "Like this."

He swallowed. "Okay."

"Wait, I have something that might make this a little easier." I shot up to my feet and opened the closet door. I slipped my hand underneath a stack of my neatly folded T-shirts and produced a magazine. I sat back down next to him, leaving a little bit more space between us for the magazine to be placed on the carpet.

"A porn magazine?"

I rolled my eyes. "No, Heero, this is National Geographic's edition on the reproductive rituals of the homo sapien- of course it's a porn magazine!" I flipped it open to one of my favorite pages - I wasn't afraid to admit that magazine had come in handy on several lonesome occasions - it was a two page image of a hot brunette woman bent over a desk with an expression of pure ecstasy, a man behind her, taking her powerfully, wearing nothing more than a disheveled tie and his black slacks around his ankles. "Nice, huh?"

"I suppose..." He leaned forward and started leafing through the pages, he appeared more fascinated than horny. If I knew Heero as well as I liked to think I did, he had never dared to buy a pornographic magazine for himself. Though I must give credit where credit is due - truly I must applaud him - for as reserved as he is when the conversation involved matters of sexual nature, he did just agree to mutual masturbation with his best friend, whom he should know to be talkative regardless.

"Let's just leave it open on a page and get started," I suggested. "You don't have to be embarrassed, lots of guys jerk off together to a magazine. Just focus on the pictures."

Heero nodded and left it open on a page with five or so naked women sitting next to each other at the edge of the pool, some kissing each other, some touching each other intimately. Whatever the case they all looked to be having a marvelous time, even though with a closer look it also appeared to be quite nippy, out by the pool.

I briefly wondered: was it weird that my favorite scene involved a guy? I shook the question from my head and made myself comfortable, leaning my back against the bed and spreading my legs a little. It was clear Heero would not be the one to take the initiative, so I did. I placed my hand over the bulge between my legs and squeezed and rubbed myself a few times through the stiff, thick fabric of my jeans. It didn't take much more for me to get myself hard, I found the situation quite intoxicating and exciting. Pushing aside any residual shame I unbuttoned my jeans and raised my hips off the floor to push my pants down my thighs along with my underwear.

I glanced sideways at Heero and saw his gaze was intently focused on the magazine in between us and not yet touching himself. I decided not to push him, yet and instead just pushed back my own boundaries and any inhibition that may have remained and I took my erection firmly in my hand. I closed my eyes and starting stroking up and down the shaft, I didn't even need to see the pornographic picture, I was plenty turned on as it was.

Finally, Heero began to move. I could hear the rustle of his clothes and his breath quicken as he touched himself through his jeans. Eventually I heard him lower his zipper and push his pants down and I couldn't resist sneaking a peak.

I moaned as I secretly watched him jerk himself off while he was still stubbornly staring at the magazine. It made me a little jealous, I had to admit. Boldly I let go of my own arousal and reached out. Heero was so distracted that he didn't even notice my hand until it was covering his that stroked up and down his dick.

He snapped his head up to look at me. "What are you doing?"

"Stuff," I replied with a cocky grin, brought on my the fact that he hadn't pushed me away or hit me. "Let go. Let me."

He looked at me like I was crazy and like he was about to refuse me, but then all of a sudden he pulled away his hand, giving me free reign.

I pumped my tight fist up and down, looking at his face as he started to lose the shocked expression in favor of a pleasurable one. It was really weird at first. It was so clinical and I didn't know how this was ever going to work. Yet, wasn't that exactly what I had wanted? I asked myself. Purely business, no strings attached?

I was turned on, but to actually touch him like that had me reeling right back into the reality of the situation: this is my best friend's dick. My best friend's hard dick. With a shake of my head I put a stop to those thoughts and closed my eyes, imagining I was just touching myself, which wasn't much of a stretch since we had matching parts. This helped me get over the initial tension and eventually I opened my eyes and my gaze darted between my hand and his face. Before long every trace of discomfort was gone and it was just... hot. My erection pulsed with need so I stroked it with my less dexterous left hand to take the edge off.

Finally he let out a moan and closed his eyes, losing himself in the sensations.

Assured that he wasn't going to strangle me after all for being so forward, I kicked the magazine away and sat closer to him again, so I could reach into his lap more easily and comfortably use the same techniques on him that I enjoyed the most myself.

He started moaning freely. The sounds he made were an incredibly turn on for me.

"Oh, shit... I'm going to come..." He warned, too soon to my liking.

With a final swipe of my thumb over the head of his erection I stopped my ministrations altogether. I wasn't going to let it be over that quickly. I needed to make sure that afterwards he would feel more confidant to explore more 'stuff' together and I figured that required a gentle push.

He whimpered and then exclaimed: "Asshole!" But his lustful eyes didn't manage to communicate his anger.

"Your turn." I smugly folded my hands behind my head.

He must have considered just finishing off himself, but the fact that he didn't pleased me and gave me hope that this wouldn't be the first and only time. He reached out his right hand and wrapped it around my manhood. He made a face.

"That's not very hot."

"It's weird."

"It really isn't that bad, you'll see." I brought one of my hands down and took hold of his wrist, pumping his fist up and down a few times before letting go again. When I did, he didn't stop stroking me.

He was shy about touching me and clearly just going through the motions without any sort of imagination but I still thought it was very hot, although I wasn't sure if I would be able to come like that. Feeling devilish and encouraged by his cooperation and willingness so far, I said: "My turn again."

Heero seemed to be a little disappointed and embarrassed that he did not succeed in getting me as close to orgasm as he had been. He moaned in appreciation as I continued where I had left off and closed his eyes and rested his head back against the mattress.

I didn't really feel like myself anymore in that moment, in the sense that I didn't feel like 'Duo, Heero's friend'. And even though I was never unaware of the fact that we were both guys - straight guys - it never hit me like a ton of bricks and scare me, like I had feared it eventually would. It was just sexual stuff between two people. Not necessarily two guys. Not necessarily two friends. It was oddly liberating.

And in that freed state of mind just the right amount of stupid accumulated, overriding all my hesitations and good reasons not to be taking things a step further. I decided to give in to my curiosity. I paused the motions of my hand and bent forward, blood rushed to my ears and face but it wouldn't stop me, experimentally I gave the head of his erection a single lick.

Heero's whole body flinched violently. "What the fuck are you doing?!" He demanded to know.

"Come on, if we are really going to do this, we are not just going to jerk each other off, what would be the point of that?" I was uncannily okay with this but as long as I didn't dwell on it too intently, it didn't bother me.

"I thought we were going to ease in to this!"

"How did you think this would go?"

Heero snorted and with high pitched voice he retorted: "I don't know but I certainly didn't expect you to go down on me!"

"I figured that as friend with benefits we should do something... beneficial." I frowned at my own argument. "It's not like it turned you off, you're still hard..."

His face went crimson red. "Well... it's not like it felt bad or something."

"You were the one who wanted to try things so you could make an informed decision about whether or not you want to do this, for real. I'm only trying to inform you." I couldn't help but smirk at that. "You don't have to return the favor."

"Good," he blurted, "because I sure as hell am not doing... that!" He yelped as I descended my mouth onto him again.

Obviously I didn't have a clue of what to do. Girls had gone down on me, of course, but I didn't really know how to imitate that and I was overwhelmed with new-found respect. It was kind of difficult! Still, I knew a warm mouth and sufficient pressure from the tongue would be fine regardless, so I took him into my mouth as deep as I could and bobbed my head up and down, making sure not to rake him with my teeth.

Heero was certainly beyond arguing. His lips moved only to emit incoherent mumbles and moans.

I got a heady rush from the fact that I knew exactly what he was feeling and knowing that I was making him feel like that. I didn't pause to give that - or anything else - too much thought. I was startled when I felt his warm hand on the back of my neck. I figured it meant he was close, because I did the same thing when I was about to come when a girl was giving me a blowjob. It was an instinctual, wordless plea, because not all girls let you come in their mouth, even though guys really want to.

I might as well make it extra beneficial, I thought to myself, after all, I wanted him to enjoy this so he wouldn't be opposed to more. I gave the process my best effort, ignoring gag reflexes and personal inhibitions and the hint of humiliation.

"Oh shit..." Heero groaned. "Oh, Duo!"

Just like that it was over. His throaty moans died down and he let his hand slip from the back of my neck. With my right fist I gave his slowly softening member a few more pumps while I spit his come out into my other hand and wiped it on the front of my shirt. I wasn't strongly opposed to swallowing it, but since even fewer girls did that, I figured it was more of a second-purely-physical-encounter-between-friends thing.

Heero hurriedly pulled up his pants. "Oh my God." Heero buried his hands in his hair. "Ohhhh my God. This is bad, this is so bad..."

I snorted. "Come on, admit it, you liked that."

He lowered his hands and stared at me with evident concern. "I just came, crying out my best friend's name."

I shrugged casually. "I've told you before: I've got the moves."

His gaze lowered to the front of my shirt. "And my best friend has my come on his shirt."

I raised an eyebrow at him. "Heero, your best friend had your come in his mouth," I reminded him.

"Oh God..."

"Can you put freaking out on hold or do it in the hallway or something? Because I really want to do something about this," I pointed down to my lap, where my private parts still stood at full attention.

Heero remained seated, staring into thin air with dazed, absent eyes.

As I had showcased previously, I had never had much qualms about masturbating in Heero's presence, so I just went about business as usual, mentally denying the fact that it actually felt a little hotter to have him sitting right by me, hearing me. When I touched myself I remembered the feeling of touching him, with my hand and with my mouth, it made me feel dirty and naughty and I thoroughly enjoyed that. I wasn't really into wild sex, sex with my girlfriends had always been kind of vanilla and that had been fine, but I experienced the spark of doing something kinky, something that other's would not approve of, let alone understand and it set me alight.

I opened my eyes and looked at Heero and found him to be watching me. His face went red as he was caught staring, but then he steeled his nerves, with his whole body tense and the tendons in his neck standing out he turned his upper body to face me and he placed his hand on my bare thigh in a wordless offer.

"I'll do better this time," he said, then scraped his throat to get rid of the rawness that his voice had held.

I rested my hands at my sides and watched, enthralled, as his long-fingered hand enveloped me.

Heero's gaze was focused on his task. It gave me pleasant goosebumps. He looked at me with the same intent look that he had on while studying, concentrating on being perfect at everything he did and not being satisfied until he was.

Apparently, giving your friend a helping hand - excuse the pun - was no different. He was shy and hesitant at the start as he had been before, but it seemed he was able to let go of his anxiety and it was then that he must have remembered how he brought himself to orgasm, because he became fantastic. If I hadn't known better, I would have accused him of having had more practice than me.

Wanting to encourage him, I complimented breathlessly: "Wow, you are very good at this."

He tilted his head up to frown at me.

I swallowed at how close his face suddenly was. How close his lips were. I could feel his breath on me again, like I did that drunken night when he undressed me. I leaned forward the tiniest bit, then stopped myself. We had agreed we wouldn't do that. There was no need to suffer the awkwardness of kissing a friend's lips, on top of everything else.

"I'm not kidding, you're really good," I croaked, looking down at where his hand was touching me. There was nothing shy or hesitant left about his technique. "Oh God... Seriously," I added, leaning my head back as pleasure flooded me, "you should teach classes or something."

Probably embarrassed by my comment he quickened the pace of his hand, starting on the home stretch.

"Ohhh, yeah!" I called out as my come joined his on the front of my shirt.

He pumped his fist a few more times as I rode the waves of my orgasm. Then he let go and sat back with a sigh.

"Wow," I appreciated.

"Could you please cover up?"

I looked down at my lap. I wasn't bothered by my nudity in his presence. I supposed things get put into perspective after you've gone down on your best friend. "I'd rather not, it's kind of sensitive right now and those jeans are really tight."

"Fine," he grumbled. He folded his arms in front of his chest and purposefully looked the other way.

I took the time to replay the events in my heads, for the first time asking myself what it all meant. I couldn't figure out the answer. I stuck to my previous conclusion that I simply had a pretty free definition of sex and gender sort of loses it's meaning when it's not about feelings but just about exchanging touches and giving and receiving pleasure. I was eager to know where Heero had landed on the issue. I hoped that the fact that he ended up voluntarily giving me a hand job meant he was interested in exploring what else there could be to this arrangement.

"So..." I started neutrally, hoisting up my pants, "have I adequately informed you for you to make a decision?"

"None of this bothered you?" He shot back skeptically.

I shrugged, allowing myself a little time to give his question an honest amount of thought. "No," I concluded matter-of-factly. I let the answer sink in with a slight sense of wonder.

He wiped his palms - probably sweaty from nervousness - on his jeans, rubbing them back and forth over his clad thighs. I didn't suppose it was completely normal that my eyes were now drawn to his hands, then getting distracted by the shape of his thighs and the length of his legs stretched out before him. But still, I wasn't bothered. I didn't feel differently towards him as my friend, there was just a new layer to this relationship. Heero was my friend. Whom I happened to find attractive in a purely physical sense. Big deal, right? I was still straight, I still liked girls - I had years of sexual evidence to back that up - nothing had changed... I had sucked a guy's dick and my world and I were still the same, so why get worked up about that?

I wanted to be understanding of Heero's inner turmoil, but honestly I could not find a mirror image of it within myself. The waters of my conscience were calm and clear. This disconnect between what he was feeling and what I was feeling made it difficult for me to patiently await the answer that I eagerly needed. That was really the only thing that had me feeling anxious.

Reverting back into his rational and calculating state of mind, he announced: "If we are going to be doing this, we need some ground rules. First of all: no kissing. Second of all: we only do 'stuff' with each other. We have now both been tested and we are both clean, so with each other we have nothing to worry about. I don't want you bringing unwanted surprises into the mix. But most importantly: we are not going to tell anybody about this, that includes Owen! I know you trust him but he is soft and weak." He added as an afterthought: "And especially Nash can not know!"

In response I could only smile expectantly and pried: "Does this mean we'll be doing this again?"

He bit his lips.

I held my hand out to him. "Let's shake on it. No kissing. Exclusive. No talking." Like a business deal; terms and agreements and verbal contracts. I liked that, because this wasn't supposed to be romantic, it was a deal between two people. No strings attached, just business.

He looked at my hand, still in self doubt.

I pretended to be waiting patiently, but in my chest my heart was beating a mile a minute.

Heero slowly lifted his hand towards mine. When he paused briefly I held my breath. Then he slipped his hand into mine and we wrapped our fingers around each other for a single, determined shake of our hands. At the simple contact electricity shot through me.

"Awesome." I let go and playfully ruffled his hair.

"Rule number four: don't do that!" He exclaimed, fussing with his messy, chocolate brown locks.

"Too bad buddy, we already shook on it. A verbal contract is binding in this state."

He glared at me. "Oh, now you're a lawyer? Seriously, you should stop taking random electives!"

I laughed, reassured by his banter that everything was still okay between us as friends.

Heero got up and unlocked the door and then seated himself at the desk to resume his studying.

I remained seated on the floor for a little while longer, looking up at him as he poured over his textbooks, eager for a normal, routinely distraction. Unbeknownst to him, with mischievous eyes I started plotting how far I could persuade Heero to take this.

As my mind happily ran amuck, exploring the shadowy parts of unconscious desire, I paused and frowned at myself as I self-examined: How far was I willing to take this? In my mind no boundaries seemed to exist. That was as odd as it was potentially dangerous, as Heero obviously did not share this limitless extension of sexuality.

But the train was hurdling down a steep slope and any attempt to brake was hilariously futile. Heero was just going to have to sit back and enjoy the damn ride.


	8. Chapter 8

**Thousand Words**

**Eight**

I looked appreciatively at my own reflection and fussed about my hair. Every wild strand had to be just right; just the right amount of wayward, hanging haphazardly in front of my face. I ignored the fact that the strands were annoying my face. It was just perfect, right like that. The attire was spot on too. My light blue jeans fit snugly, the way he preferred them. I had managed to find a near identical twin to the green tank top he favors in informal social situations and I went with a darker denim jacket on top. He usually had the tendency to dress more… exposing than this, but I had to wear something on top to hide my hair – tied in a loose ponytail - under and keep me warm in the cooling air of late October.

I reached over to retrieve the finishing touch from the desk. I tilted my head back and popped the colored lenses into my eyes. The irritation was mostly eased away after a couple of blinks. I faced my reflection once more and nodded with a very un-Heero-like grin.

"Looking hot," I commented to my mirror image and all of a sudden I observed him making a face. Given recent changes in our friendship 'hot' was kind of a laden term to say in the current context. I had planned this outfit months ago. I couldn't quite remember when, but I must have been hammered when the idea came to me: this year I am going to dress up as Heero for Halloween. Perhaps it would have been better if I had changed costumes, now that things were a little awkward between us. Things get like that when one friend goes down on another. It wasn't like it disrupted our friendship, but it exposed everything under a magnifying glass and I did worry what Heero would think upon scrutinizing this outfit of choice. I was worried he was going to read too much into it. The reason I decided to go through with after all was because one of us needed to break the tension and just step out onto the eggshells with heavy boots and shamelessly crack a couple. We never used to tread lightly around each other. One of the hallmarks of our friendship was honesty, I wasn't willing to lose that.

Someone tried the doorknob of the dorm room but discovered it to be locked.

There was an anxious knock on the door. "Duo, let me in!" Heero called. His laugh coming through the door eased away my previous concern at his hasty rattle on the door.

In three steps I was at the door. I unlocked it and swung it open.

The vision in the doorway was shocking to say the least.

He pushed past me and pulled the door from my grip to slam it shut. It seemed he hadn't even gotten a good look at me because he had yet to make a remark. "I just had to shake Hilde off my tail," He commented and then let out a breathless chuckle. He looked up at me with quizzical eyes as my silence persisted. "What?" Then finally the visual input must have registered. His jaw went slack and he exclaimed: "Oh my fucking God!" He looked me up and down, my tight jeans, my green top, my denim jacket and my short, chocolate brown hair that sprung every which way.

"Amen to that!" I shouted back. My gaze started at his beat up sneakers, nothing suspect there, but then they traveled up long legs in dark jeans, a torso clad in an imitation-silk button-up shirt with a long auburn braid draped down the front and my gaze settled on his violet eyes.

After an appropriately awkward silence we both burst into laughter.

"You look ridiculous!" I said between violent laughs as the effects of Heero wearing a clearly female wig started to sink in.

"You mean you look ridiculous!" He shot back, gasping for breath himself.

"Where did you find this monstrosity?" I reached out to grab the end of the synthetic braid.

"I saw it in a storefront in Japan, some cosplay store or something." He reached up and ruffled 'my hair'. "What about this thing?"

"I just cut off the end of a dirty mop."

"Oh, ha ha," He replied sarcastically at my lame joke.

I smiled at him, happy to have my concerns be washed away. Now I could enjoy the night as I always did. Every year a group of students organized a Halloween party. It was mostly just another excuse to get drunk and – most importantly – dress up like idiots, other than that there was nothing even remotely Halloween-y about this party, but every year it was a blast anyway.

"We are going to look like complete fools," Heero voiced his concern.

I was already tugging him to the door in anticipation. "That is the point of the party. Come on."

On our way to the gym where the party was focused – though it tended to dilute onto the fields and the dorm buildings – we passed some troll faces, a pokémon, a couple of lego-men and a variety of American presidents. I waved hello at a particular Nixon, I was pretty sure that guy was in one of my classes.

In the hallway we were stopped by a regrettably familiar voice. "Heero!"

Heero shot me sideways glance. "I knew I should have dressed up in something that involved a mask."

Relena approached us with a confidant stride and a seductive sway of her exposed hips. Clearly the fall cold did not factor into her costume design which was an admittedly well-executed princes Leia. As much as I disliked Relena she definitely rocked the iconic gold bikini, complete with collar around her neck and dangling chain. Needless to say, all the boys feasted on the sight of her shapely curves and creamy, pale skin.

"You guys gave your costumes some thought," She noted with a smile once she reached us.

"Actually, it was a happy accident," I informed her. "Will you excuse us?" As good as she looked neither one of us was in the mood to indulge her in conversation so we walked past her in unison. A few steps removed from her I turned around and called: "Don't slip anything into my drink, it's just an illusion!" Gesturing at the wig and the contact lenses in my eyes.

She huffed indignantly and stormed off.

The music grew louder as we neared the gym until the volume became deafening upon entry. People had gathered to form a large crowd, most were jumping to the beat of the music, others were surrounding the beer keg.

Princess Leia walked up to us. A different princess Leia this time.

With my elbow I nudged Heero in the side and nodded in the direction of the famous Star Wars character, barely able to contain an eruption of laughter. Heero was not so successful, a single laugh involved in a serious coughing fit at the hilarious sight.

"I don't know what to say," I said to the princess when she joined us. "It suits you, Nash. The chest hair really completes the fantasy."

The young man grinned, pleased with his costume, identical to Relena's only he was receiving stares and evoking agape mouths for different reasons. His unnaturally colored hair was covered by a brown wig with the hair twisted into the famous buns. The neon yellow of tennis balls peeked out of his bikini top. And the full length of his hairy legs were exposed with the draped cloth hanging between his legs.

"Has Relena seen you yet? She is wearing the exact same thing. She's going to bust a vein."

"I haven't had the pleasure of the confrontation yet. I knew she was wearing this, it was partly why I decided to as well." He looked us up and down with the sudden appearance of a frown. "What are you guys, a lesbian couple?"

"What? No. I'm Heero and he's me," I explained. I thought it was pretty clear.

"No, I mean, are you guys, in real life, a lesbian couple?" He chuckled. "Dressing up like each other."

"We didn't plan it. We thought it was pretty funny," I defended. I dreaded his comments would make things weird between me and Heero, ruining the night.

"I think it's pretty gay- Oh, Relena just walked in, see you girls later." Nash darted off, leaving me with the wreckage that he left behind.

Trying to make light of Nash's accusation, I joked: "Can you believe this, a guy in a bikini calls us gay." I glanced at Heero, noting the thoughtful and doubtful look on his face. Great, I grumbled inwardly, this was going to set me back. "Let's go get a drink."

"Maybe we should just go. It is kind of gay that we are dressed up as each other."

I made a face at him. "Thirty minutes ago you thought it was pretty funny."

"Well," he paused to throw suspicious glances around us. Nash's remark had made him nervous of other people's opinions. "That was probably naïve. It's for the best if we not draw attention to… this," he emphasized that last word and finished with a grimace.

"First of all, 'this' isn't us being gay-"

Heero glared at me and urged me to quiet down.

"Because we're not gay," I continued with lower volume. "And second, no one is going to suspect anything, because 'this' doesn't mean anything and therefore it won't show. Besides, what's the big deal, people always joke that we are like a gay couple. Granted, this is the first time someone compared us to a female gay couple, but still." I chuckled. I wasn't worried that people would seriously come to think we are gay, because that wasn't the case. I was pretty sure that if I took to the stage, grabbed the microphone and told everybody that I gave Heero a blowjob, I would just get a roar of laughter and a lot of: 'good one's'. "Are you really afraid people think that we dressed up as each other because we're in love with each other?"

"I just think we should be careful," He hissed.

I offered him a smile. I recognized that the situation caused him a lot of concern even though I didn't share those feelings. I supposed that it should be scary. Few people would understand the arrangement that Heero and I made. Most people, even our friends, would judge us. But I wasn't worried about our secret being exposed. "Let's just go get that drink."

He reluctantly followed me to the beer keg where he watched me poor a beer for myself and then he grabbed one of the empty cups and left for the restrooms to get some water.

Truth be told, I thought to myself as I watched him leave with uncomfortable, stiff movements, the only thing I was really worried about was that he would call it off. I found the whole agreement incredibly exciting and I surely wasn't disappointed with the pleasure I felt when he jerked me off. It was wrong, but, as would be the case for many young guys, that only made it all the more exciting to me. And I just loved having something to tease Heero about, although for the time being I had to tread on eggshells or else this could all blow up in my face.

"Oh, I get it. You're supposed to be Heero."

With a sinking heart I turned to face Hilde, dressed up as a zombie with torn clothes and dark circles under her eyes. We shared a love for horror movies, one of the many things that connected us as friends, but none of it enough to make a relationship work.

"Then I suppose that's a cup of water?" She nodded to the red plastic cup in my hand.

"I'm not that dedicated to the costume."

"I guess Heero is dressed up as you?"

I nodded and took a sip, hoping Heero would come save me soon. I didn't feel like making a scene at the party. I had been in a good mood, I didn't want to put her in the position to ruin that.

"I thought I saw a guy with a long braid cross the campus before, it took me a little while to realize he was too short to be you." Her gaze redirected past me. "Speaking of the devil."

"Hi, Hilde." Heero gave her a curt nod as he came to stand beside me.

"Hey, Heero. You look great."

"I figured you'd think so," He replied dryly and hid a smirk behind his cup as he brought it to his lips.

She briefly glared at him, then turned her attention back to me. "I have a ballet recital next week. You've always encouraged me to keep dancing, I thought maybe you would want to come."

Part of me yearned to be friends with her again, but most of me was still overcome by the hurt that she caused. So I said: "No, thanks."

"Can't we just try to be friends again?"

"No," I replied adamantly. I cursed inwardly, aware of negative feelings stirring, heating up and knew they would inevitably bubble to the surface.

She looked down at her feet. "I'm really disappointed that you won't even give it a try."

"Don't pin this on me!" I said with raised voice, causing both Hilde and Heero to snap their heads up at me.

"I'm sorry," She whispered, then winced when I started to yell at her.

"You're sorry? Goddammit! Every time I hear you say that it just gets me more pissed off! You know why? Do you? Do you?" I demanded, leaning in.

She seemed to shrink into herself. "No," She meekly replied, fearful eyes turned to Heero hoping he could calm down my rage to her benefit, perhaps hoping to find in him the old friend that she once knew and he was dressed up as.

"Because those damned words don't mean a thing! They don't change anything! They don't change the past and they don't change how I feel right now! Do you know how I feel? Do you?"

She bit her lip. "Pretty bad?"

"Pretty fucking bad!" I informed her with increased volume and menace.

"Duo, calm down," I heard Heero say softly to my side as my screaming started to drown out the music and draw the attention of the crowd surrounding us.

"No, no I won't fucking calm down," I said without breaking my angry gaze away from Hilde's shamed face. I knew that if I would turn my head to look Heero in the eyes, his stare could subdue all my anger and I didn't need that right now, I needed to be angry. It felt so good.

"I hate you!" I was surprised at the coarseness of my own voice and the rawness of my emotion. I thought I had moved past that stage of the grieving process, but with just the simplest, most innocent trigger words she could pull me right back into that mindset, where nothing felt more alike the promise of healing than to just loathe her and scream at her. That was the only thing that could offer any relief at times like that.

"What is going on here?" A classmate of both Hilde and I said, interrupting my bitch-fest. He stepped in between us, shielding Hilde from my rage with his muscled torso and broad shoulders.

I chuckled bitterly. "Right. I am the bad guy here." Hardly anyone knew what had happened between Hilde and I, as Hilde never disclosed her 'pregnancy' to anyone other than Relena and I only ever cared to tell Heero and WuFei at the time. To the entire student body I was Hilde's psycho ex-boyfriend, who goes off on her for no reason every time he sees her. I had been tempted to tell the truth many times, out of anger and spite, but each time something stopped me; the memory of a friendship that once was. As her former friend I wasn't going to lower myself to her level of evil. I wasn't going to make her life horrible just because it could benefit my situation.

"Duo, I'm sorry," Hilde repeated, from behind the tall man's back.

"Stop saying that!"

Our fellow classmate stepped into my personal space, looking down at me with nostrils flared. By all means it was clear he was ready to do what it would take to protect the damsel in distress. "Back. Off." He said and punctuated each word by poking his index finger into my chest.

That really got me going. The abnormally-tall-steroid-case might feel confident given his size, but whether or not I'd be able to win, I had no reservations about socking him in the face. "Touch me again." I challenged. "Please."

I felt a splayed hand against my chest, not the Big-and-Tall-posterboy's, but Heero's. His other hand was against my challenger's chest and he pushed us away from each other. "That's enough," He said definitively, fixing his chilling glare on the other guy. "We get it, you are both big, big boys. Now tuck your testosterone back into your pants and go play with your friends," He commented dryly. His tone left no room for argument and more than made up for his height disadvantage.

"Just don't make another scene," My opponent said as he started to back off. "Leave Hilde alone."

Said girl looked at me with sorrowful eyes for another moment or two before she walked away. The crowd that had gathered around us started to dissipate.

"What a fucking asshole," I snapped, but after a deep breath or two my anger had lost its edge. I looked down at Heero's hand, still on my chest. My heart rate sped up a little again. I hoped he hadn't noticed. I didn't need for things to get even more awkward between us. "Thanks, but I have it under control now."

He dropped his hand down to his side.

I took a large drink from the beer I was still holding. "Great," I mumbled into my cup. "My mood is now officially ruined. She still gets to me." I looked at Heero when I felt his comforting hand on my shoulder.

"If you want to get stinking drunk again, I'll let you, this once." He said, hoping to cheer me up.

"Nah. Let's just get out of here, get out of these stupid wigs and work on those 'Gundams'."

Heero frowned. "Wouldn't you rather party?"

"You'd think so, but; no. You know, most people dread graduation because of all the friends they are going to miss, but these people don't mean anything to me. So why waste any time on them when I could be spending time with the one person I am going to miss?" I looked down at him poignantly.

"Is that a compliment or are you finally admitting to the fact that I'm the only bridge you haven't burned?"

"A little bit of both?" I offered him my trademark grin, hoping the conversation won't get directed towards my falling-out with WuFei, also known as 'the-other-bridge'.

Thankfully he must have figured that I had endured enough confrontation for the evening and demonstratively pulled the long, braided wig off his head and ruffled his hand through his hair, returning to it its usual, wild appearance. "Let's go."

Together we left the gym. I ignored the stares some people were given us as we left the much anticipated festivities early. I hoped Heero was able to ignore them too. He had been far more on edge about the recent 'addition' to our friendship. I could tell he was having doubts, I didn't want anything to reinforce those thoughts as I had secretly been looking forward to a continuation of our odd, necessity-born agreement. Our initial exploration had been over a week ago and I realized it was probably time to discuss the proposed frequency of our sexual-relief-program. I didn't want judgmental - although for other reasons – stares to complicate matters.

Once we had returned to our dorm room after a short walk through the brisk evening air we both started stripping out of our costumes, both getting rid of the irritable contact lenses first. Heero unbuttoned the imitation-silk shirt, shrugged it off his shoulders and then undid his black jeans and stepped out of them, unaware that I was watching his reflection in the closet-door mirror that I was facing. I absentmindedly pulled my shirt – resembling Heero's favorite shirt – over my head, then, more than anything, toyed with the button of my tight, worn jeans.

"Can I ask you something?" Heero wondered out of the blue.

My whole body flinched, I felt like I got caught with my hand in the cookie-jar, like he had noticed my eyes going up and down his back as he stepped into a light grey pair of sweatpants. "Sure." I left on the jeans and instead covered up my torso by slipping into a clean white shirt and leaving it at that. I was expecting a conversation that I couldn't sensibly have while simultaneously undressing. The last time he wanted to ask me something, he asked me if I was still thinking about having sex with him.

The answer had been yes.

The answer was still yes.

Heero turned to face me. His expression was not accusing, like he had caught me staring, as I had suspected, but rather it was thoughtful, curious, and with a hint of concern in the twitch of his frowning eyebrows. "You still get so upset with Hilde. Every time I think you are over it something like tonight happens."

When his pause continued unexpectedly long I shrugged and pointed out: "That's not a question."

"No, what I wanted to ask…" He briefly hooked his lower lip behind his teeth in contemplation. He fixed his piercing blue gaze on me anew and asked: "Are you still so upset because she lied to you about being pregnant, or because she wasn't pregnant?"

I tried to brush it off with a casual shrug and a grin. "What do you mean?" I sat down in my desk chair and pulled the sketches of the Gundam we had been working on out of my map and meticulously aligned them on the surface of the desk.

"Are you upset because she lied or are you upset because now you don't have a baby?"

I sighed. I didn't know how to answer his question, but when he sat down in his chair and tilted his head, looking at me with a sympathetic expression, I realized that I had already given an answer.

"I thought you were upset because of the deception, not because of what you essentially lost. I thought you were relieved. You had to quit your whole life because of it. I thought you were relieved that you didn't have to turn your life upside down."

I nodded slowly. "That would have been true in the beginning." I absentmindedly fingered a folded corner of the paper. "But by the time she confessed it was all a lie, I was at that point – that emotional point – that I would have happily quit my life for this new life." I finally looked at him with vulnerable and partly ashamed eyes, because I had gotten so caught up the deception. I felt so stupid for having bought it all, hook, line and sinker, even when – in hindsight – there were signs that should have caused me some suspicion. Her refusal to tell anyone but Relena. Her not wanting to go to a doctor. Her not making any arrangements regarding school. Her not doing anything about that apartment that she said could be made available for us. I turned my whole life upside down and dared to hope that something amazingly positive was hidden in what was, at the time, bad news. That made me feel very foolish now.

"When she finally told me," I continued, "I guess I should have just been mad about the lie and what I had sacrificed, because that is the only hurt that is reality based, the lie really happened and the sacrifices really happened. The baby never happened, so it feels so stupid to be sad and upset about that. But it felt like there had been a baby, but she had taken it away from me. It felt more like she had gotten an abortion behind my back than that it had never been true to begin with."

"I'm sorry," He whispered genuinely. "I didn't know that."

"You're forgiven," I said with a fresh smile, "You are really thickheaded about these things and it doesn't help that I'm a really good secret-keeper," I jested. "I didn't really want to talk about it," I continued seriously, "because I feared that would make it just more real and therefore make the pain worse. I thought that if I kept that to myself, it would sink back into my thick skull that there never was a baby. But for some reason it didn't work that way. It is very strange to think that it was never there, never real, because I had all those feelings… and they were very real…" I chuckled bitterly.

Heero leaned forward and rested his head against my shoulder in his very cat-like expression of affection. At least, I had always compared it to a cat nuzzling you with its snout. It brought a smile to my face.

"You know," Heero started, straightening back up to look at me, "If you still want to pummel her with your braid, you could use my wig. I imagine it will be much less strenuous to the neck and shoulders."

I chuckled softly at his dry humor. "I thought you said it was kinda wrong of me to want to do that."

"Well, yeah, but that was before I knew how deep this hit you."

A soft sigh escaped my lips. I stared at his face, noticed, with gratitude, the sympathy and concern in his eyes. What was I ever going to do without him? He was part of me. Part of my personality. Part of confidence. Part of my intelligence. In most those cases either the bigger or the better part. By the end of the year I would lose him. That felt daunting, especially with the memory of my previous loss still fresh. I offered him a brave smile, not entirely genuine.

"Let's get to work," I nodded at the sketches. "I was thinking maybe we should change the color scheme? I know charcoal grey makes more sense because that's what they use on modern military aircrafts, but lately they've been making a lot of these drones white. I thought it might be a good idea to make it white, but with primary-color accents. I mean, this is supposed to become the biggest, baddest cat, right? Like, what do you say we went more towards this," I shook colored pencils out of my bag and pulled up one of the smaller, less detailed sketches and started filling in some panels with red, blue and yellow.

Heero made a thoughtful sound. "I don't know. It looks… off."

"Well, maybe it's 'off', or maybe it's going to be the thing that sets you apart from the rest. It's like a territorial threat display in animals, you know, it's intimidation."

Bemused he pointed out: "I thought that was what we had the big beam cannon for."

I looked at said item. "That helps too. Look, I know it might seem weird and this sketch doesn't make any sense like this, let me just draw up a good one, then you can see it'll look pretty cool. And if you decide differently, then no hard feelings, I'll just finish the charcoal grey one."

"Alright," He agreed neutrally, "As long as it isn't too much work."

"Oh, don't worry about me-"

"Trust me, I'm not," He interjected with a grin. "I'm worried about getting this done on time." His brows furrowed deeply. "Are you sure you want to do this right now? We could do something fun, I guess putting it off one more night isn't going to cost me."

My mind bravely abused his offer to steer the conversation in a direction that we had been purposefully ignoring. "I can think of something fun to do…" I leaned in with a suggestive wink. It was the only way I knew how to approach the subject matter, with humor and totally casual.

Heero sat back and tensely crossed his arms in front of his chest, all of a sudden self-conscious about being shirtless. "Yeah? What is it?"

"You know what it is," I replied. "It's the only thing that does… that," I made a vague gesture towards him, "to your body language. I know there is no rulebook on this, but I think eleven days should be the maximum time allowed to ignore that one friend had the other friend's dick in his mouth and… you know, other stuff. But let's face it, amazing jerk off or not, that day will always be the day that I sucked you off," I rambled on dryly.

Heero became visibly more uncomfortable. Of course I wasn't the most delicate with my phrasing. "You're kind of catching me off guard here," He said, more than a little perturbed.

"Really? So out of the two of us I am the only one who spent the last eleven days thinking about this on and off? More 'on' than 'off''," I challenged, I didn't really believe that to be the case. Surely he had been thinking about it too, if only to fret about it.

"Yeah, I guess I thought about it a little… But I don't really know what you want from me here."

"I thought that the rules we made would be enough to clarify this whole thing, but obviously they weren't enough, because we are both confused as hell," I showed him a sheepish smile.

"I-… I-…" He frowned at his own embarrassing struggle for words. "I really can't have this conversation shirtless." He jumped up and took the two large steps to the closet. It took him longer than usual to pick a shirt, he was stalling. He sat back down wearing a faded blue shirt. "I thought that this would just be a once-a-month thing, like what I had going on in the library and that one of us would just bring it up when it was time again."

I chuckled softly. "That's not really how I pictured it. If anything more weekly, than monthly, but rather not by any sort of time schedule at all. We agreed to this because it was easy and convenient, right? No planning, no responsibility, just pure physical relief whenever we needed it. I kinda need it more than once a month," I winked at him.

He looked off to the side, silent in contemplation. "So," He eventually asked, "How did you imagine this?"

"I thought it would be ideal that if one of us was in… 'need' of something, he could just express that and then the other would just get into the mood too and… help out," I laughed with a hint of nervousness at the weirdness of the conversation. "I mean, that's part of what is so great about this, specifically. We are both guys, so we can pretty much get into the mood whenever. At least, I know I can. I could get into the mood right now," I smirked.

"Don't," He warned.

"Now I just feel challenged."

Heero snorted but a smile tugged at the corners of his lips.

"It was pretty fun last time, right?"

"Yeah…" He reluctantly agreed. "But the past eleven days haven't really been fun."

"Well, that's your own fault, you're in your head too much. You just shouldn't think about too deeply, like me. Don't let your thoughts go to 'awkward' or 'wrong', just keep it at-"

"Fun," He finished for me, knowing what I was going to say. He sounded doubtful.

"Exactly." I smiled at him.

He sighed. "You're so casual about this…" His voice was quiet, his tone had a strong hint of jealousy.

I shrugged. "It's just sex."

"Is there such a thing?" He shot back.

Fair question, I thought. "Between two straight guys? Yeah, I think so. If there is no possibility of the two falling in love with each other, how can it ever be more than just sex?"

Heero had a pensive expression on his face.

"I know it's not as easy as we initially thought, not as uncomplicated. Because we're friends and it's a little weird right now," I admitted. "But it will never get like with me and Hilde, or like with you and Relena. It will never reach that level of… crazy," I chuckled. "After a while the weirdness will go away. But it will never go away if we don't let ourselves get used to it. If we make it this huge thing between us, that we are both scared off and try to ignore." I leaned in closer and repositioned my leg so my knee was touching his.

His eyes shot up at me. "You are trying to get into my pants right now," He accused.

I smiled. Somehow, I could tell that he was not as freaked out by the notion as he let on. Maybe that was his way of dealing with it, of protecting himself. My way was to be openly casual about it and ignore anything that threatened to reach beneath the surface. Maybe his way was to let everyone – me – think he was totally not okay with it, so he could hide behind that if – he thinks 'when' – things go awry. I was willing to accept his coping mechanism, if it meant he would give me another one of those amazing hand jobs and maybe, someday, more than that.

My hand, which had been resting on my thigh, moved down my leg to my knee and then slowly moved over to Heero's knee.

He redirected his gaze to stare at it, but he didn't do anything to stop me other than test my resolve with the stone cold look on his features.

I moved my hand further up, lightly grazing his thigh through the fabric of his sweatpants. When the tips of my fingers neared the crook of his thigh I could feel the strong muscle in his upper leg tense.

"Shouldn't you get the magazine?"

I shook my head. "We're not using that this time. We're never going to get anywhere if we only take baby steps." My hand went up further, moving to his inner thigh.

All of a sudden Heero jumped up out of the chair. "This is too weird."

"Why?"

"The slow crawl up someone's thigh? That's something I do when I try to… you know. I think we should be more clinical about this. Or businesslike, like you said." He nodded fervently.

I stared at him. The no-kissing rule was weird enough for me, I didn't like the idea of having to skip more steps. That would feel so contrived.

"I think we should just undress ourselves, skip the whole 'undress each other' thing."

"Well, then you might as well go to the doctor's office for a prostate examination," I snapped, a little peeved at his idea of what this arrangement should be like. It was a far cry from what I had been imagining.

"What? Why would say that?"

"Well… if you want it to be clinical…"

"No, why did you say that," he emphasized the final word. "What, do you assume I'll be the girl in this – whatever this is?"

"No!" I blinked. "But wait, is that something that we should discuss? Do you really want to take it that far?" I did, or at least at times it felt like I did, but I always pushed those thoughts away because based on his demeanor I didn't figure it was an option that required any consideration.

He looked a little shocked. "No, I just meant… I don't want to feel like a girl in this arrangement. I don't want to be treated like the effeminate one, I get enough of that with this face and the height. I don't want to feel like that when we're doing… stuff!"

"You don't look like a girl to me…" I mumbled. The intensity of his emotions really threw me off, he was really upset about this.

"Everyone calls me your 'wife'. Your wife! You are the husband and I am the wife! This deal that we've made is emasculating enough as it is, I don't need you thinking of me as a girl, let alone assuming I'll be willing to 'play the girl'."

"Heero, this is not emasculating and no one needs to be a girl. We're both guys, that's the point." I rose out of my seat and placed my hands on his shoulders. "Relax."

He let out a deep breath.

"Is that what's been bugging you? Are you still worried that this makes you an effeminate homo, or a girl?"

He shrugged, uncomfortable in the aftermath of his telling outburst.

"Heero," I made him look me in the eyes before I continued: "I had your dick in my mouth. Trust me, I know you are a guy."

He shook his head. "It is so crazy to hear you say that."

"And just because you liked it- because we both liked it," I corrected, "doesn't mean we are gay."

"Who said I liked it?"

"Your come in my mouth said that you liked it," I replied dryly.

He nearly went cross-eyed at having me say that.

"I know of a way to settle this." I grinned devilishly. My hands on his shoulders applied more pressure and I pushed him back against the door. He slammed into it more strongly than I had intended, but I wasn't about to stop to make sure he was alright. I dropped down to my knees. In a rushed fashion my hands trailed down his chest and I curled my fingers and hooked them into the waistband of his sweats, pulling them down swiftly. "I expect you to return the favor this time," I stated boldly. "No time for baby steps." I wrapped my hand around his manhood and brought it to an erect state in just a few demanding pumps. He may still be uncomfortable, but my fist was tight and my pacing left no room for argument.

Driven by sheer determination I pushed forward and flicked my tongue along the head of his erection.

He gritted his teeth, fighting the pleasure. He was determined to remain stoic about the entire situation.

There was no sense trying to familiarize myself with the alien action, it would always be alien, so I didn't waste any time and just took as much of him into my mouth as I could stand without gagging.

Heero whimpered, fighting a losing battle.

I really didn't get what the big deal was. It was just bodily pleasure, it didn't mean anything.

I tried some tongue tricks that had been used on me in the past. Some I could mimic more successfully than others, but regardless it was clear that it wouldn't be much of a challenge to bring Heero to climax. The boy probable needed this kind of release way more often than he liked to admit. I opened my eyes for the first time – I hadn't even realized I had closed them – when he dug his long fingers into my hair. I looked up at him, his head thrown back, against the door, his mouth open, still too damn stubborn to let out any significant moans. I released him from my mouth briefly, wrapping my hand around his shaft instead. I waited for him to look down at me, it didn't take long. The urgency and desire was as apparent as his shame, but more important to me.

"You don't feel like a girl now, do you?"

Finally he emitted an honest moan. His hands on my head urged me to continue.

I happily obliged. I was pretty confidant I had gotten my point across and hoped this would get rid of any lingering inhibitions on his behalf. I had to strengthen the grip of my fingers on his hips to keep him from thrusting forward as he neared completion.

That time he didn't call my name, just a groan as I let him come into my mouth again.

His hands released my hair and he planted them against the door, trying to steady his balance. I could feel the tremble in his knees as I bobbed my head a few more times before releasing him. I spit his come into my hand and boldly wiped it on the front of his shirt. "Here you go," I started with a grin, "in case you still had any doubts whether you liked it or not."

I sat down on the carpeted floor and scooted back to give him room to sag down as well.

He was panting. His gaze was far off.

"So? You didn't feel like a girl, right?"

His unfocused eyes settled on me. "No," he admitted breathlessly. "It actually felt… more masculine, to have another guy submit to me like that."

"Oh, I'm submitting now?" I grinned. "Now who is the one who is making assumptions?"

He ignored my banter and finished: "It was kind of a… rush…"

"Well, I wouldn't know, would I?"

My not so subtle hint had him crashing straight back down to earth after riding the waves of his orgasm.

I stared at him, waiting to see what he would do. I already had an erection. That part of me came to life not long after he got aroused. Just the promise of a return of the favor was enough to make my dick stand up straight in anticipation.

He raised his hips off the floor and pulled up his sweatpants before he got on all fours and crawled towards me.

I took a deep breath and spread my legs to accommodate him. The jeans, that had been tight to begin with, had been excruciating at that point.

He paused in contemplation for a moment or two before he decided to lie on his stomach between my outstretched leg, his upper body supported by his elbows, his face was mere inches above my still clothed groin. His fingers moved unceremoniously to undo the button and zipper of my jeans.

"Oooh, careful, I'm not wearing any underwear," I warned with a hiss at the sound of the metal teeth of the zipper. Nothing could kill a good mood like that like a zipper-incident could.

At my warning he slowed his pace and with the fly undone he carefully pried out my arousal. He wrapped his long fingers around it and gave it a few jerks first, stalling.

My eyes travelled down his body and lingered suspiciously long on the curve of his impressively sculpted behind. He definitely wasn't my best friend in that moment – who laughed at all my bad jokes and dragged my drunk ass home on Friday nights – he was this incredible looking guy whose hot mouth I wanted to be inside of.

After the first few experimental licks, Heero didn't end up doing much more than wrap his warm lips around the head of my erection and heavily pet the tip of it with his tongue. But in that moment, it was enough. And Heero was right, it was a heady rush to have another guy go down on you. It felt like a power trip and compensated for any residual awkwardness that may still have been lurking.

It took me a little longer than it had taken him, something that caused me an irrational sense of pride, but when I was nearing my climax, I decided to warn him. "I'm close," I ground out. In those final seconds it was a miracle that I had the coherency to form words and to prevent myself from burying my fingers into his thick hair and pushing his mouth further down my shaft.

He seemed a little startled by my confession and raised his head. Fortunately his fist around the base of my erection was tight and he had the mercy to finish me off with another skillful hand job.

He refused to meet my sloe-eyed gaze when I looked down at him. With his eyes directed to the left he pumped his fist a few more times before he pushed himself up to sit on his knees.

I looked down at my shirt, which I had soiled. I hooked my thumbs under the hem and raised it over my head, throwing it into a corner for later laundering. I left the fly of my jeans open, not really desiring the feel of the course denim material in my post-orgasm state. I allowed the quiet to exist for as long as I could handle it, recognizing that Heero was deep in thought. If it was a positive thought process, I didn't intend to disrupt that. Eventually, though, I had to speak. "That wasn't so bad, right?"

His cheeks turned an amusing shade of red. "I guess."

"Well, I liked it," I stated with a self-satisfied smirk.

"That much was obvious," he pointedly looked at my crumpled up shirt.

I laughed and nodded at his shirt, where I had wiped his come.

The red hue on his cheeks became a little more vibrant, but he chuckled regardless. "I guess I wouldn't mind doing this exchange program a little more often."

I stared at him with mischievous eyes. "Next time I do expect more of an equal exchange. I mean, this was great, but as great as it was it did leave me wanting more."

"More?"

"More of your mouth." A shudder ran down my spine. My eyes unconsciously focused on his lips, soft and full, with a perfectly defined cupid's bow. It was an odd thing to realize; that your – male – best friend had seductive lips, but 'odd' was a relative term and this notion paled in comparison to the other odd things we had already done and I had already noticed – like how I liked giving him a blowjob because I knew and understood exactly what he was feeling and that filled me with a heady sense of satisfaction at being able to give him that pleasure

"Right," In spite of my confession, he seemed a little relieved at the clarification. "I thought that with 'more' you meant…" He couldn't finish that sentence and looked at me with eyes that clearly conveyed that he didn't want me to make him say it.

"Then let's take it off the table," then, as more of an afterthought, I added: "For now."

He raised an eyebrow. "For now? Is that actually something you might, at one point, be interested in?" His tone was comically and innocently disbelieving.

"Yes," I answered curtly.

This took him by surprise and seemed to cause him discomfort and confusion.

"But like I said, let's just take it off the table for now. Let's just stick to blowjobs and hand-jobs."

"Deal." He reached out a hand to me to shake on it.

I looked at his hand before I accepted it. I was startled by the instant thought that popped into my mind at the sight of his long, slim fingers and his soft palm; that only a little while ago that hand had been deliciously wrapped around my arousal. I shook the thought away and shook his hand to settle our deal.

"So now that I am all cheered up," I started with a smile to lighten the mood, "How about we get back to work on that Gundam?"

Heero was clearly taken aback at the ease with which I could switch between being his fuck buddy – basically – and his best friend, but he welcomed the transition back into normalcy.

We both got up and changed clothes before we sat down at the desk and continued discussing the project. Heero made all the decisions and was responsible for the entire technical design of the futuristic war machine, so my only part in it was to create sketches that would accurately portray the awesome and innovative design he had created.

We worked until deep into the night. We heard our neighbors stumble back to their respective dorm-rooms in a drunken stupor after a long night of partying and that was when we realized we should probably call it a night as well.

I climbed into the top bunk and Heero settled in the bottom bunk. I blinked in the darkness and listened to the muffled mumbling and fumbling of the last of the students returning to bed. The quiet that followed was suddenly interrupted by Heero's deep voice.

"Thanks for this."

I snorted. "Heero, I told you, don't worry about it. You always help me with schoolwork, I like being able to return the favor."

"No, I mean-" He sighed and paused to sort his thoughts. "For making our… exchange-program more easy. Less, awkward and heavy. From now on I won't stress out about it. It'll just be… fun."

I smirked. "You're welcome. And thank you."

"For what?"

"For sucking my dick." I laughed uncontrollably when the entire bed shook as Heero kicked against the underside of the top bunk in reaction to my remark.


	9. Chapter 9

**Thousand Words**

**Nine**

"You are getting your asses handed to you out there! You're dragging yourselves back and forth across the court and you can't keep up, they are dribbling circles around you! Literally!" The coach made a lot of dramatic hand-gestures as he screamed at during the fifteen minute break between the second and the third quarter, as we cowered in the locker rooms, trailing behind the opposing team by a discouraging thirty-three points.

"And what about those butterfingers?" He demanded, his face an unnatural shade of red. "I haven't seen any one of you hold on to the ball for more than ten seconds!"

I rolled my eyes at the exaggeration but wisely kept my mouth shut. The humiliation was part of process and had been since Harford became coach to the basketball team, even though it had yet to translate into successful game-play.

"And you throw and catch the ball like you are a bunch of fucking fairies, every single one of you!" Coach Harford piled on the love, taking a moment to glare at all of us – those who still dared to look up at his seething face at that point. "It would be funny, if I was the coach of the Rattlers. But I'm not, I'm stuck with you guys and it's painful to watch your laughable attempts to score."

Obie softly nudged me. "He's really ripping us a new one…" He whispered.

Before I could flash him a grin in response Harford honed in on Obie, stomping over to the bench where we slouched, shoulder to shoulder. Spit flew everywhere as he demanded: "Excuse me? Do you have something to say?"

Obie steeled his nerves and bravely remarked: "All you had us do was run laps. It's no fun anymore. We are about as motivated as cattle at the slaughterhouse."

Behind the coach I saw heads nodding in agreement. On some tired faces eyebrows were raised in surprise at the defiance.

Obie continued, seeing as Harford was too angry to even speak: "In a couple of months we are all going to get the fuck out of here. We never thought we could win regionals, let alone the state competition, but we had fun. Now that it's not fun anymore, it's not anything. It's just time wasted."

The coach took a deep breath through his nose as a vein in his forehead throbbed angrily. "If you can't be bothered anymore… Then by all means, leave."

Obie shot a look my way.

"Get out!" the coach yelled. "You're off the team!" He pointed at the door to the hallway.

At that moment the referee came in through the door connecting the locker room to the gym. He stopped dead in his tracks at the undeniable tension in the air that was thicker and heavier than the stench of sweaty socks and armpits. "Fifteen minutes are up," he announced and then immediately backtracked his steps out the door.

"You can go, mister Bane. You will no longer be playing for this team," The coach stated definitively. "I'm sure one of the sophomores will eagerly replace you on the court."

Obie demonstratively took off his jersey and threw it at Harford as he got up from the bench. "Fine," he sneered. He ripped open his locker and grabbed his sports bag and his coat and then stormed off, shouting over his shoulder: "Enjoy the rest of the season." And then he laughed, knowing that if we lost this match – which we were about to – the season would be over.

"Any other quitters amongst you?" He turned to look at all of us, challenging us.

The word 'quitters' momentarily froze me. My dad always called me a 'quitter', accused me of never seeing anything through – not the things he wanted me to do at least. I didn't want to prove him right by quitting the team now, even though I wanted to, but then, in a split-second, I realized there was only one thing worse than proving him right and that would be living my life according to what he wanted, as opposed to what I wanted. Determinedly I got up on my feet.

Harford slowly turned around and looked at me. "You're a disappointment, Captain. I can't say I'm surprised."

"You're a disappointment too, coach." I shrugged my shoulders. "No one here is surprised at that." Following Obie's lead I cleared out my locker and promptly left, chasing after my friend. My heart was beating wildly, I didn't regret my decision yet, but I did worry that someday I might. Mostly though, it was just a painful reminder that things came to an end; this life I had – this college life – was coming to an end. I thought about the things that I wouldn't be doing anymore, once graduation came and the people I wouldn't be seeing anymore. Heero's face came to mind unbidden.

"Obie!" I called, when I spotted him about to exit the building through the back doors. "Wait up!"

He stopped in the door opening and waited for me to catch up while he slipped into a gray hoodie. "You too, young grasshopper?" He asked with a grin as I joined him.

"Like you said, we were never in it for the success and now it's just not fun anymore. With you off the team I have no reason to stay."

He wrapped an arm around my shoulders and guided me outside. "I'm flattered that you are so in love with me," he joked and then darted to avoid my fist heading for his side. His laughter subsiding he wondered, as we walked along, "So what now?"

"I don't know. I guess we check if there are any openings in the marching band."

He laughed again.

We slowly made our way back to the dorm buildings with ours bags slung over our shoulders. In the distance we could hear cheers coming from the gym. The Rattlers had brought along two bus-loads of supporters. Our team struggled to fill even one row of the bleachers, even at a home-game. Most of those had not come to cheer us on, but to laugh at the most despicable college basketball team ever. In a way we were famous, we made college newspapers all over the state; when you are notoriously bad, your reputation precedes you. The only person who ever came to cheer – who always came to cheer – was Heero. WuFei used to make a point of showing up at most of my games too, sitting next to Heero at the top of the bleachers making awkward small-talk – because they both suck at making small-talk -, but those days were over. Nowadays Heero sits alone at the top of the bleachers, probably feeling like a fool being the only one there to actually show the team support.

"Duo!"

Speaking of which…

Obie and I stopped halfway back home and turned around.

Heero picked up his pace to a swift jog to catch up with us. "What are you doing here? Why aren't you playing?" He asked when he joined us and the three of us continued towards the dorm buildings.

"We quit the team," Said Obie, almost proudly.

Heero looked at me with questions evident in his eyes.

"It's true."

"Oh."

I chuckled and said to Obie. "He's usually more eloquent than that."

"Really? Single non-word responses sound about right to me," my tall friend replied dryly.

Right, I thought to myself. Most people didn't know Heero the way I knew him. They didn't know that he could put on endless monologues if he felt passionate about the subject. Or that he made bad jokes on purpose because it made me laugh anyway. Or that he always recognized when it was best not to speak and he'd just lean his head against me. They also didn't know that he gave a stellar hand job

I looked over my shoulder at Heero, quietly trailing behind us, deep in thought, and I smirked at him. He cocked an eyebrow.

Inside Building B Nash was sitting at the dinner table with a handful of friends from other dorms or off-campus and they were sharing a joint, the evidence of which they poorly tried to hide when they heard the front door open. They swatted the air to thin the white smoke, but when they saw it was just us they started laughing and one of them offered the joint to me.

"No thanks."

Nash took the joint and held it out to my Japanese roommate. "Heero?"

Heero just walked away, heading upstairs without saying anything.

The group burst into laughter. Obie joined them and started to tell them about what happened at the game. I stayed briefly adding my input to the report, then I followed Heero upstairs. I found him in his desk chair with his cellphone to his ear. Knowing that he was calling home and that I would have some time to kill, I started to gather up a fresh set of clothes and a towel for a long, hot shower. Just as I left the room, the call was answered and Heero started to talk in Japanese. I stood in the doorway for a few moments, listening to the foreign words. I couldn't understand a word he was saying, but his tone of voice spoke volumes. I softly closed the door to give him some privacy and headed for the bathroom, shaking my head at the uncontrollable laughter coming from the living room.

I took my time dozing under the hot spray and lazily soaping myself up. When my body was relaxed and my skin was cleaned and warm, I decided to give myself an extra treat. I turned the water hotter still and started jerking off, unabashedly attempting to mimic the exact techniques Heero used on me. Even though the ministrations of my dexterous fingers were dead-on, I had to admit that it didn't feel quite the same and I wondered what it was that he did that somehow made it feel so much better. Inadvertently the image of him jerking me off came to mind. Whereas previously I had been unable to masturbate whilst picturing him, we were way past that point of awkwardness and the sudden mental image didn't hinder me in the least. In fact, to see him kneeling on the shower floor with his hand wrapped tightly around my erection and his lips so close that it made me thrust my hips forward trying to reach them, added more intensity to the sensations that flooded me and it came closer to what I experienced during the actual encounters that we had shared.

When the imaginary projection of Heero looked up at me with those big, exotic eyes, his name slipped past my lips and waves of semen were shot against the glass wall of the shower stall I was leaning my forearm and forehead against to balance myself.

"That's a first," I noted with mild shock as I reached for the showerhead to rinse off the glass wall. I wondered if it was normal for me to be masturbating to the thought of him, even given the unusual friends-with-benefits situation.

I got out of the shower and sat down on the edge of the bath tub to towel dry my hair while my legs steadied after feeling so shaky just before. Once I had dried myself off I got dressed and hung the towel around my neck. With my long hair loose I got a lot of attention as I walked past the living room. At the whistles and catcalls I paused in the hallway and pulled down my pants to moon them, earning me a roar of laughter that made me smirk.

Hey, it's college, I figured as I climbed the steps. We all experiment. Some with drugs, others with masturbating to the image of their best friend – among other things.

I opened the door to find Heero pouring over textbooks, a little surprised that he got off the phone already. He always complained about having to ask his dad for money to afford the lengthy, long-distance phone calls to his grandmother in Japan.

"You okay?" I asked, noticing the tension in his back.

He shrugged and didn't answer me at first. I stared at the back of head, waiting for him to give in, which I knew he would – I had that effect on him, he once confided in me. Sure enough, after a few silent moments he sighed and put his pen down. I watched as he rubbed his eyes and then ran his hands through his hair, still keeping his back turned towards me, purposefully, I assumed. "She was having one of her bad days," He finally explained with a small voice.

"She's been having those a lot," I commented, then thought that maybe I shouldn't have. I didn't want him to feel worse than he obviously already did.

"Yeah," He agreed forlornly. "She is usually better in the mornings, but this time she didn't remember me at all," He continued softly, "And when I tried to explain to her that I'm her grandson, it just got her more and more upset. She didn't understand. She ended up just hanging up on me."

I sat down in the chair next to him, taking in his defeated posture. "I'm sorry."

He shrugged and tried to brush it off. "It's fine."

"How's your mom?"

He chuckled bitterly, "Still a bitch. She wants me to come home, work at the diner full-time, help pay for grandma's care. "This college thing is taking too long" she said. She just doesn't get what a dead-end that would be. She doesn't get that I'm trying to be better than that, exactly because I want to help take care of my grandmother."

Not knowing what I could see to help him feel better, I just leaned forward, resting my head against his shoulder.

Heero snorted. "You're stealing my move," He observed comically. Eager to change the subject, he said: "I want you to sign these." He pushed two drawing I had made of the 'Gundam' my way. "I don't want to hand them in and pretend I made them. It wouldn't be right. And you deserve the credit. These are… art."

I smiled at the compliment, though it was a bitter reminder that my 'art' had never been good enough to get me into any art school. "Are you sure? Won't it get you in trouble?"

"I made a drawing myself that I'll hand in as well. I don't think I'm going to get into trouble about handing in an artist's rendering as well, as long as I'm honest about it. Might even score me bonus points," He winked at me.

I was momentarily taken aback by the gesture but shook my head and accepted the pen to sign the drawings with a signature I had come up with as a young kid, scribbling it on the lower right corner of all my 'art'. "Can I see the drawing you made?"

His cheeks flushed a little red. "Don't laugh okay? I'm going to have anxiety attacks about this for weeks to come as it is."

"I won't laugh," I promised sincerely.

He reached for a pile of papers on the corner of the desk and pulled out the bottom sheet and turned it over to reveal it to me.

I pulled the piece of paper towards me and scrutinized the pencil drawing of the 'Gundam' in a straightforward pose, with its wings folded out.

"Oh God. You're not saying anything." Heero scrunched up his face.

"I'm speechless."

"That bad?" He questioned cautiously.

"That good!"

"Really?" The relief was evident in his voice.

"Yeah!" I assured him genuinely. I stared at the image, a little sad that the project was over. One more step closer to the end. To Heero graduating and going back to Japan.

"Thanks."

I looked up at him. Surprised at how close I found his face to be to mine.

Heero bundled up the drawings and neatly put them away with the blueprints and thick report on the technical aspects of the design.

My gaze was drawn to his lap, to the way his dark, casual jeans bulged over his groin and creased in the juncture of his thighs. I felt my dick stirring in my own pants at the thoughts and desires that came to mind. It had only been a few days since we had last exchanged blowjobs but Heero didn't seem too opposed to increasing the frequency, the time before that we had also only allowed a few days to pass. With it becoming less and less awkward, now that Heero was on board and at ease, I wanted it more and more. And even though I had just relieved myself in the shower, I wanted it again. The heady rush was addicting.

Boldly I placed my hand high up on his thigh, drawing his attention to me instantly.

He was increasingly less shocked whenever I initiated it – and I was always the one to initiate it. But he grabbed my wrist to prevent my hand from traveling further up his muscled thigh. "You just took a forty minute shower, there is no way you didn't jerk off in that time."

"I did jerk off," I replied crassly, "But it wasn't as good as when you do it. Let alone as good as when you suck it." I smirked at the widening of his eyes. It was still pretty funny to shock him like that, although I also appreciated that I didn't have to spend several minutes talking him into it every time anymore. All the persuasion it took this time was: "Don't you want to celebrate the completion of your project?"

His hand slipped away from my wrist and he widened his legs slightly in a mute invitation.

I placed my other hand against the back of his chair to support myself and prevent myself from getting off balance and then I moved my right hand up his leg to cup and massage the bulge at the center of his groin, feeling it harden and grow under my palm. His strained moans were delicious. After torturing him for a while I was about to free him from the denim restriction when his heavy voice asked me: "Did you lock the door?"

My fingers stilled on the button of his jeans. "Shit, right." I got up, adjusting my own erection in my underwear and took the three steps to the door to lock it. When I turned back Heero had gotten up on his feet and was taking off his pants. I hovered by the door and watched him push the rough fabric all the way down his legs, along with his underwear and then step out both. I closed the distance between us and grabbed the hem of his shirt. "Take this off too." Without waiting for approval I lifted up his shirt and worked his limbs and head out of it as he questioned: "Why?"

I didn't really know. I just knew that I wanted him to be naked. Deciding against that brutally honest and potentially dangerous answer I didn't say anything and instead distracted him from further seeking the answer to his question by forming a tight tunnel around his arousal with my fist and pumping him.

Heero let out a gasp and his hands appeared on my shoulders to steady himself.

We both panted and watched as I jerked him off with long, hard pulls.

It was pretty exhilarating to feel the soft skin of the hard member in my palm. It was even more exhilarating to have him in my mouth, I knew. It was like an incredibly erotic, kinky, deep French kiss. I would never admit to liking the sensation, but I did. Sometimes I wished I could ask Heero if he was experiencing the same things I was – to gauge if what I was feeling and thinking was normal – but I didn't want to risk freaking him out if anything I told him was abnormal and too much for him.

"Sit down," I ordered. I scraped my throat at how uneven my voice came out.

Heero obliged and sat down in his desk chair, his legs spread so I could kneel between them. A few licks at the head of his erections to rid him of his last inhibitions and coax more noises out of him and then I took him into my mouth. With each downward thrust I pushed my lips down further until I reached my fist at the base of his arousal.

Heero buried his fingers into my hair, seeking some semblance of control but he had no choice but to surrender to the pleasure. He threw his head back with a throaty moan.

I had my left hand wrapped firmly around the base of his dick, but my right hand started to wander. First I stroked it up and down his smooth thigh, enjoying the quivers of the strong muscles. Then I caressed his abdomen and worked my way up to his chest. If he wasn't – yet – willing to allow for foreplay, I was going to have to push the boundaries while he was in no state to argue. Eventually I found a nipple and teased the already hard nub with my thumb.

Heero hissed but after reactively arching his back I felt him looking down at me. I pretended not to notice and continued sucking him off as well as stimulating his nipple, alternating flicking it to rubbing it between my thumb and forefinger. I knew girls liked it, although they hardly ever returned the favor. I supposed it wasn't very masculine, but it was worth a shot and his responses were definitely encouraging. As I had predicted, he didn't argue. And I continued to pretend not to notice his fingers tightening in my hair and his cock hardening in my mouth at the special attention paid to his chest.

I could tell he was getting close. It amused me that I was able to tell, but the tightening in his thighs and abdomen and the shift of tone of his moans were unmistakable.

When a loud knock sounded on our door we both tensed up. Even more so when whoever it was tried the doorknob. I released Heero from my mouth, figuring this would be the very unsatisfactory end to that night's extracurricular activities, but Heero's hands wouldn't release my head. I looked up and swallowed at the expression on his face; his eyes clouded with passion, his cheeks flushed, his lips parted. In spite of his concerns about anybody finding out about our highly unusual arrangement, he didn't want me to stop.

"Guys?" Nash's voice sounded through the door.

"Fuck off, we're busy!" Heero called with deep voice.

"Jeez, relax. I was just gonna offer ya a beer… keep your panties on…" Nash continued to mumble drunkenly – and not to mention high - as he moved away from the door.

"Please don't stop," Heero begged in a whisper.

Rather unceremoniously I took his erection back into my mouth, as much of it as I could. With my own dick painfully hard in my sweatpants I had no choice but to give up on touching his chest and slip my hand into my pants and underwear to give myself some relief until it was my turn. I moaned around Heero's arousal as I stroked my own. It was the last push Heero needed. With just enough time left to warn me he came into my mouth, calling out my name with each wave of his orgasm.

Good thing the walls were pretty thick, I though with a grin – as much as I could – whilst busily swallowing his passion. That wasn't bad at all, I thought.

I sat back and waited for him to recuperate sporting a pretty cocky smirk as I watched him. I had no qualms admitting to myself that he was quite a vision, with his back arched and his head thrown back, his nipples still hard and his softening dick at the apex of his legs, resting against his stomach.

"You swallowed it," He stated dumbly as he came to.

"Yeah. I figured: what the hell. Damn near choked on it though, it was a lot." I smiled mischievously.

He was still too dazed to appreciate the joke.

"So where do you want me?" I challenged.

"Stand up."

I did and paused to strip off all my clothes. I stood in front of him and Heero leaned forward in the chair, bringing his face close to my groin.

"It's was pretty funny how you told Nash to get lost," I remarked lightly.

"Shut up."

"Why? It's not my mouth that is going to be preoccupied with something else." I chuckled but the sound soon hitched in the back of my throat when he suddenly wrapped his lips around me and sucked fervently on the head before taking in more of my length.

His hands gripped my hips strongly to keep me from instinctively thrusting into his hot mouth.

It seemed that even though my mouth was free to talk, all I could do was moan and, at best, utter his name in appreciation occasionally. The hold on my hips tightened, his fingers digging into me hard enough to leave bruises but he had to; the urge to give into wild abandon and just fuck his mouth was overwhelming. It was then I knew for sure that I wanted to have sex with him eventually – the last smidgen of doubt going up in the flames of the fire that was concentrated between my legs. As pleasurable as these oral exchanges were, they were mostly very controlled and contrived and short lived. I longed to know what it would be like to take our time and 'do it all' and completely lose ourselves to the sensations. Of course in the fantasy that overcame me in that moment I was the top and Heero was the willing bottom. If it would ever get that far, positions would undoubtedly be cause for discussion. In the same way we fought for the top bunk each year. Just as I found it impossible to visualize myself as the 'receptive one' – let alone enjoying it – Heero, as a lifelong straight guy like myself, must have similar preferences.

But in the moment none of that mattered, I reminded myself and I forced my eyes open to look down at him. I tilted my head to watch, enthralled, at his lips encircling me, moving up and down my shaft. "Ohh, baby."

His eyes flew open to look up at me.

Realizing my mistake I hurried to explain breathlessly. "Sorry, it's just a slip-up, it's instinctive."

Mercifully he didn't stop.

Unlike with his hand jobs, his technique with his mouth wasn't very imaginative, yet it made me feel hotter than any girl could. I put my hand on the back of his neck. "I'm close," I grounded out.

When my orgasm came it felt like I exploded into his mouth. My hips bucked against his resisting hands. I could see his throat working to swallow the load that was pumped into him and it was hot as Hell.

Once it was over he released my hips and I struggled to find my way back to the empty chair before I would topple over from the intensity of the climax.

"That," I breathed with a silly grin, "was fucking hot." I ran my hands through my hair and chuckled.

Heero got up and gathered his clothes from the floor and started to get dressed.

I decided not to mention that he was half hard, after sucking me off. I didn't want to embarrass him. So I just quietly enjoyed it in my head as I inconspicuously watch him put his jeans back on. It made me feel like a fucking sex God, that even a straight guy could enjoy my dick so much he gets aroused, even after he had just orgasmed.

"What's with the stupid look on your face?" Heero threw my shirt at me.

"Nothing," I replied innocently. I leisurely put my clothes back on.

Heero sat back down at the desk and pulled a textbook out towards him, flipping it open on a more or less random page, it seemed, trying to look aloof and cool.

"So… you think it's too late in the school year to try out for other sport teams?" I started, not really sure yet when it was okay to start talking to him like he was my best friend again, not the hot mouth I wanted to bury myself into. It was a delicate balancing act of which I hadn't really figured out the finer points yet.

He looked up at me. "Why? Do you regret quitting the basketball team?"

"Nah. I just don't want to get fat, that's all," I rolled my shirt up and pointedly looked down at my abs.

"Show off."

"Oh, like those tight swim jammers aren't you showing off?" I poked him in the side.

"They are for-"

"Hydrodynamics," I finished for him. "I know. You fill them out nicely though."

He made a face and then buried his nose in his textbook.

"Hey, what about the swim team?"

"What about it?"

"I could join," I suggested jokingly.

"No," He answered curtly.

"Why?"

"Because we actually stand a chance at winning. We are not going to let someone on the team whose most recent swimming experience was nearly drowning in the bath tub last year."

"Hey! In my defense, I was really drunk that night!"

"Well, since then you have only ever taken showers. That's all I'm saying."

"Fine, okay, not the swim team then." I agreed with a smile. I observed him for a few seconds and then I wondered: "We're doing alright, right?"

"What do you mean?"

"The friends-with-benefits thing. We're cool about it now, right. I mean, this feels pretty normal."

He looked up briefly in thought. "Yeah, I guess so."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah. We're cool."

"Cool." I was relieved. The last thing I wanted was to ruin this last year that we had together. Screw basketball practice, I would much rather spend time with Heero. "Hey, how about we put together a little basketball meet every week ourselves? Obie and I could rally up some buddies and just enjoy the game."

"Yeah, that sounds like a good idea. The team sucked, but I always thought you were pretty good."

"Thanks. You could play too," I suggested, hopeful.

Heero looked at me with his eyebrows arched. "I'm like three feet tall, between you and Obie and the rest I would get trampled. Besides, those guys are your friends, not mine."

"Oh come on, you clear four feet easy," I joked. "And maybe if we all shot some hoops together, we could all be friends."

"Look, I just don't like them. We've been over this." He sounded a little annoyed.

I sighed. "Right… But maybe if you would just try to like them…" I whined. It would be so much easier to spend more time with him without it being suspicious if he and the guys would just get along so we could all hang out.

"I liked WuFei."

I made a face. "We've been over that too."

"Well, then drop it."

"Fine," I snapped childishly, sitting back with my arms crossed in front of my chest.

"Fine." He blew his bangs out of his face, exacerbated, then turned his attention back to his reading.

I started laughing. I couldn't help it. Even when he was frustrated with me and I was frustrated with him, he still gave me the 'warm and fuzzies' and in all honesty it was just funny to see him scowl and pout like that.

Heero threw his gaze up to the ceiling. "You are so fucking crazy."

I started laughing harder, moving my arms down to hug my shaking stomach.

He stared at me incredulously, but my laughter must have been infectious and he couldn't resist forever. The first chuckle burst out of him like a sudden cough and then he laughed with me.

"We really are like a fucking old married couple," I managed.

"Actually, I think we have sex more often than most old married couples do," He replied.

His comment surprised me. It was the first time he had made such a crass but casual remark about our arrangement. It also momentarily threw me that blowjobs did, indeed, count as sex – they don't call it 'oral sex' without reason, genius, I thought to myself. It was just easy to forget that sometimes because, as a guy at least, you're always so preoccupied with attaining that higher goal; 'the real sex'.

"We are cool," I stated.

"Yeah. I told you we were. But give me any more grief about not liking those asses of friends of yours and I'll bite next time."

After the initial cringe I started laughing again.

Along with Obie I organized two small teams to play basketball on the outside court every week as often as the weather allowed. We weren't bothered much by the increasing cold, but rain and snow could really cramp our style.

It turned out we didn't suck that bad when we actually gave a shit and were having fun. In the beginning I did feel conflicted about hanging out with the guys when Heero clearly didn't like them and I did wonder if my time would be better spent with my best friend. After all, these dudes weren't leaving the country for good in a few months. But my inner dilemma was solved when, about midway through the third math I spotted Heero taking a seat on a park bench behind the chain-link fence lining the concrete basketball court. He was dressed in several layers of clothing and a thick coat and still he must have been freezing his nose off, but he showed up dutifully each week, like he had for my official competitions. I, personally, was never cold anymore.

We both ignored the jokes about 'my wife sitting front row and center', by then we had accepted that our friendship was clearly beyond what most college men could understand, but as long as the remarks were nothing but playful banter we were cool with it. My usual response to tell them off was an inside joke for us.

"Suck my dick!" I would yell back at them in response to the catcalls. They never got why Heero laughed so hard in reaction to that. The jarringly coarse bark was a sharp contrast to my frequent, quiet begs to Heero. "Suck my dick," I would whisper after we had fondled each other through our pants. The words were the same, but the feeling couldn't be more different. And Heero wouldn't laugh at me either.

As we did it more and more often, the realization that I wanted more became increasingly overpowering. It wasn't necessarily 'real sex' that I longed for, what I wanted most, which caught me completely off guard, was the desire to kiss him. I blamed my wicked brain for getting so caught up in how good his lips felt on another body part of mine that I wanted his lips against my lips. Irrational, accidental synaptic crossfire as it may have been, the desire was very real and undeniable. Sometimes, when he went down on me and I grabbed his neck, I actually had to resist the urge to pull him off me and to pull his face towards mine to kiss him deeply.

I had to resist because I was afraid of how it would throw off this careful balancing act we had going on between being each other's friend and being means to sexual relief for each other. We were in such a great place; our friendship was as strong as it had ever been and at the same time the oral sex was amazing, uncomplicated and often. Though it was always up to me to physically initiate the exchange it was unmistakable to me that Heero dropped subtle hints when he wanted it and all I had to do was pick up on those and follow through to make it happen.

I'd have to be an idiot to ruin such a sweet deal. However, having my urges go unheeded like that only made them grow stronger; longing because yearning. Every day I was closer to being that idiot. I could feel it. I couldn't keep it from happening forever, my body wanted what it wanted. It was only a matter of time before the ecstatic state in which his lips on my dick left me would cause me to be that idiot.

I made my way through the snow to the library after looking for Obie in the cafeteria to cancel that afternoon's game. I had a selection of three sandwiches cradled in my arms but I nearly dropped them because I was shaking so much, having cockily left my winter coat in my room and opting for a denim jacket instead. With my shoulder I pushed the door open and let out a sigh as I relished the warm air that enveloped me. "Damn misses P," I said to the librarian as I walked over to her desk, "Mother Nature is being a bitch today."

"Language, Duo," she warned me motherly, if not for the following wink.

"Oh, I think today's selection allows me an X-rated vocabulary. Tuna, salmon and… Australian Crab melt."

"Hmm, fishy. Crab, obviously."

"Obviously." I handed her her favorite sandwich, a low price to pay to be allowed to eat in the library and to have our own permanent private study room.

She took a bite. "Mm. You know me too well, Duo. Go ahead, cuss all you want."

"Why thank you, milady," I bowed.

"Milord," she responded and made a curtsey behind her desk.

I headed towards the back of the library to our regular study room. It was quiet in the main area, traffic wouldn't pick up much again until the next wave of exams came near. A janitor was quietly decorating the top shelves of the towering bookcases with Christmas lights. I followed the dark, narrow corridor all the way to the back and peered through the window at the familiar sight of Heero sitting at the large table with books and papers spread out in front of him.

"Wazzup, homie?" I said upon entry.

He furrowed his brows. "It's fly, homeboy," He replied awkwardly.

I laughed and threw him one of the sandwiches. "Salmon, am I right?"

"What was my other option?"

"Tuna."

"Yeah, salmon." He tore off the plastic and took a big bite.

"How was dinner at your dad's last night? I didn't hear you come home." I pulled out a chair next to his and dropped myself down onto it, throwing my feet up on the table.

"Our chess match ran a little longer than planned. We had to start over again."

"Ah, you were winning."

"I'm always winning," He stated matter-of-factly, "but I never actually get to win because that is the only thing he can control by knocking over the board every time he finally realizes that I am, for a fact, winning."

It was clear that he was agitated so although I wanted to show my support, he would probably appreciate it more if I dropped the subject. "Did the grades for your design project get posted yet?"

"Not yet. They should be up by the end of the day though."

"Worried?"

He shrugged. "Not really. If he had a problem with your additional design input he would have let me know already. I'm pretty confident in the technical aspect of the project. What about your grades?"

"B's all across the board. Except for Math though." I dulled down my voice to feign disappointment.

"Yeah?" Heero looked at me with empathy.

"Yeah, cause I fucking aced that son of a bitch!"

"Really?!" Heero exclaimed enthusiastically. "Duo, that's great!"

"All thanks to the world's best tutor." I bowed my head to him.

"Well, I may have helped you, but I wasn't there looking over your shoulder during the test," He said, boosting my confidence. "I'm really happy for you, Duo." His genuine smile was mesmerizing.

Shit, I thought, I want to kiss him. I shook my head to snap myself out of it. "Thanks buddy, I appreciate the vote of confidence."

"Sure."

"So, do you have any plans for Christmas?" It was better to keep the conversation going than to have him fall silent and end up staring at him.

"My dad is probably going to blackmail me into a Christmas dinner…" He said with a shrug. "What about you?"

"The same as every Christmas. I am 'cordially invited' to join the family at the "Maxwell Ranch" for a week of forced festivities with estranged family members and a select number of my father's business men that he likes to give a special, warm feeling, to butter them up so they will accept whatever poor deal he will offer them in the New Year," I grumbled. "You could come with me. Could get you out of dinner with the old man."

Heero snorted. "After what you just told me? I think I'll take my chances with the old man, maybe even let him win a chess match to put him in a good mood." He chuckled bitterly. "Guess that makes me no better than your father, but "buttering up" is a sound strategy."

"Maybe… but by God, you should see him when he gets like that. Inviting them to show them the grounds like he is the fucking king, walk them by his stables and name the prize winning horses. The man only likes animals when they are prepared by a chef and served to him with a side of salad and an old red wine. He has no soul. He would uninvite me if could, but he knows better than to rub my mother the wrong way like that, or she'll be less than cooperative when the honored guests arrive… Best to have his darling wife on her best behavior and seat me at the kiddie table where my stupidity won't harm his business deals."

"You could just not go," He suggested.

"Wish that were true. But you and I are not so different. You owe your dad because he pays tuition. It's the same for me. The bastard pays for 'this joke of an education'." I took a deep breath to compose myself. I muttered: "I'd much rather spend the Christmas holiday with you."

"Me too…"

I nodded slowly and looked down at my fingers, fidgeting with the hem of my sweater. "Do you think you'll ever come back to the States, after the school year is up? For Christmas or Thanksgiving or something?"

"Maybe…"

My heart throbbed. "Maybe? That's a very non-committal answer."

"Well, I was thinking that you might come to Japan… you are the one that can afford it, after all." He said softly, his thumb plucking at the corner of a page of his book. "I'd show you around, introduce you to my grandmother."

I smiled, but it was still bittersweet. I didn't really believe in long-distance relationships, including, but not limited to, friendships. "I'd like that."

"Yeah?"

"Definitely."

"Cool. It'll be fun. I won't go down on you, but it'll definitely be fun."

I let out a hearty laugh, but it died down when I recognized the look in his eyes. "Then I guess I should get it whenever I can." I rose out of my seat and pushed his books aside, clearing the surface of the table in front of him. I hopped on and looked down at him suggestively.

"What? Here?" He inquired, his perplexity nothing more than a formality I assumed.

"Yeah. You used to do it here all the time, right?" I placed my hand over my crotch, already starting to get excited. Whenever he was game, I was game.

"But then if I would get caught it wouldn't be as bad as getting caught with you."

I rolled my eyes. "Have you ever been caught?"

"No."

"So what are the odds, you reckon, that we'll get caught now?"

"Pretty insignificant, I suppose."

"I agree." I popped open the button of my jeans.

"But-" He was interrupted by the sound of me lowering the zipper.

"Come on, this is where the magic happens right? The original Heero-Yuy-sexual-experience."

"But-"

"Tell you what, when it's your turn, I'll lick your balls too. You like that, right?"

His face turned red. He scraped his throat. "Uhm… yeah."

I pulled my half-hard dick out of my pants and with a few strokes I was fully aroused. I didn't pause to ponder how abnormal my growing sexual attraction to Heero was becoming. "Please," That and gentle pressure applied to the back of his neck was what it took to persuade him. He was tentative at the start but soon got into the routine. I placed my hands on the table's surface behind me and rested back on them, shamelessly watching him move his head up and down, watching myself disappear into him. It was thrilling. I guessed because having a guy go down on you just has the kinky built in.

Whether it was normal for me to feel that way, I wasn't sure. But I wasn't going to ruin a good thing by over-thinking it. Besides, how weird could it really be? Is it really that strange to enjoy getting sucked off, or wanting to kiss the mouth that gives you so much pleasure? A guy's mouth is no different from a girl's mouth. It's not like I wanted him in particular, but he was just there and he made it easy, so my desires were naturally redirected to him. For those feelings to evolve into the desire to have sex with him wasn't that much of stretch. It wasn't really what I had in mind at the beginning of the school year when I thought to myself that I wanted to enjoy Heero as much as I could before it would be too late, but in hindsight I certainly was enjoying it.

He pulled back to pay special attention to the head, kissing it and licking it. I stared, my mouth open with harsh breaths. I watched the pink tongue dart out and tease me. I watched his open mouth running along my shaft. As incredible as it felt, all I could think was that I would happily sacrifice that pleasure in exchange for a hot kiss.

"Heero," I said softly. With my hand I cupped his jaw and made him look up at me.

With a red face he stopped his actions. Clearly embarrassed, he asked: "Am I doing something wrong?"

"No, it's perfect…" I breathed. I can't, I shouldn't, I thought to myself, yet the word slipped out of me "But…"

Heero straightened up. "But?"

It was going to happen, I knew it as soon as I watched him lick his lips. I was going to be an idiot.

I quickly leaned forward – what force powered my body, I didn't know, but it was eager and determined – and I wrapped my hand around the back of his neck to bring his face closer to mine.

His expression was riddled with confusion at first, perhaps only there to mask a quiet acceptance. But when our noses touched his entire body flinched and he jerked away from me.

Knowing that I had some serious amending to do, I started right away: "Heero, I'm sorry."

"We agreed. No kissing," He stressed. He looked shocked and betrayed.

That made me frustrated. I had never liked the "no kissing" rule to begin with and had only agreed to it to placate him. To me it felt unnecessarily unnatural to skip kissing altogether and just head straight for the groin. So then, bitter, more than anything, at being rejected and not getting what I wanted, I said with a groan: "Seriously Heero? You just sucked my dick. How much more intimate are you afraid it can get?"

He glared at me. "We agreed!" He repeated.

"Yeah, you said that before. Now give me a real reason."

He was taken aback by my insistence. It was evident that my own determination to get my way only made him all the more combative. "I just don't see why we would do that," He started adamantly. "It's too weird, it's too intimate. We are just friends, 'helping each other out'. There is no additional pleasure in kissing, so it is not relevant to our arrangement."

I snorted. "And what kind of additional pleasure does you going down on me bring you? That is way more intimate than kissing, what does that 'do for you' to make the intimacy justifiable?"

Heero got up from his seat, with sharp, angry movements he started collecting his books and papers.

"What are you doing?" I demanded.

"You are right," He snapped, "We've been way too intimate already. We should just stop." He stuffed everything into his shoulder bag and then stormed out the door.

"Wait, Heero? You're seriously going to leave me here like this?" I gestured down at my lap, where, in spite of the fight, my dick was still standing at attention.

The definitive answer was him slamming the door shut behind him. That sure made my arousal wither quickly. "Fuck!" I exclaimed. I hoisted up my underwear and buttoned up my jeans as fast as I could and ran out the door, grabbing my bag along the way. I knew that if I didn't fix my mistake soon there was no fixing it at all.

"Duo, no running in the library!" The librarian called after me as I shot out the door into the cold, white world.

Across the campus yard I saw Heero heading into the main university building. I hurried after him. Once I was inside the building I rounded a few corners, looking for him and then I found him leaning against the wall in the hallway by the door to Auditorium A, early for his lecture. "Heero," I called out and approached him.

Heero appeared irritated at the fact that I had followed him. He pushed himself off the wall and crossed his arms in front of his chest as I closed the distance between us.

"Heero, I'm sorry," I started.

He pointed an angry finger at me. "This was supposed to be uncomplicated."

"I know, I'm sorry. I don't know what I was thinking."

"You can't just change the rules whenever you feel like it. I need to be able to trust you," He hissed.

"I know, I know. And you can, I-" I was interrupted by the amused conversation of a group of girls as they seemed to come out of nowhere and then walked past us. Their giggles faded into silence at the intensity of Heero's glare. I searched the surroundings for a more quiet place to talk and then grabbed his arm and dragged him to the janitor's closet, which I knew to be unlocked – I liked pulling my girls in there too. In the dark, cramped quarters I finished: "And you can trust me. I'll follow the rules, I promise." When my eyes adjusted to the lack of light, I became worried at our closeness. The small janitor's closet where I had had many hot, hurried meetings between classes with my girlfriends, probably wasn't the best choice I could have made for this particular conversation, I realized in hindsight.

"So you won't try it again?"

"I won't. Honestly, I don't even want to, I don't know what I was thinking," I lied, wanting only to assure him. I truth I ached to push him back against the shelves and ravish his mouth.

"You don't?"

"No. I don't want to kiss you." I swallowed. My heart was beating so loudly that I feared it might betray my lie.

"Good. Stay in here for a while," He ordered, "The last thing I need is for people to see us coming out of here together." He pushed the door open and swiftly slipped out.

"So we're cool?" I called after him, my voice a little shaky.

He shrugged. "Yeah, sure I guess." He shut the door, leaving me in the dark hole-in-the-wall.

I heaved a deep sigh and leaned back against the metal shelving. "What the fuck is wrong with me?" I asked the dirty mop, propped up in the corner. "I'm losing my fucking mind."


	10. Chapter 10

**Thousand Words**

**Ten**

Everything appeared to be fine between us again. We enjoyed each other's 'physical comfort' quite often and between those intimate episodes we were just the pair of friends we always had been. Heero started to trust me again and he became more confident with our arrangement, to the point where we actually did end up sucking each other's dicks in the study room. That had been one fucking hot afternoon, one I had spent that night – and many following nights – thinking about. I couldn't ask Heero if it was the same for him, if it consumed his thoughts as much as mine. I didn't want to scare him off again. He had made it clear that that part of our relationship was never to be discussed or analyzed. He refused to talk about anything other than the logistics of it all. I figured, as far as he was concerned, we weren't ourselves in those moments. I wasn't Duo and he wasn't Heero. That was the way he saw it, so as soon as we became Duo and Heero – nothing more than friends – again, those moments were irrelevant and they were as much a secret to 'Duo and Heero' as they were to the outside world.

It wasn't like that for me. I tried that and in the beginning it worked; detaching the person that was going down on me from my friend that had playfully punched me just moments before for making a stupid joke, even though they looked remarkably alike. But that changed. Every time something happened between us I was hyper aware of the fact that it was Heero. And it didn't bother me. The opposite in fact, it heightened the pleasure I experienced, although I didn't know why.

What I also couldn't explain was why exchanging blow-jobs didn't seem to be enough for me anymore. I attempted to placate my incessant desires by upping the frequency of our sexual activities, but that wasn't the solution. I kept craving more, but not necessarily more of that. I still had the urge to kiss him, though luckily I had managed to keep that under control so I wouldn't break the rules again and betray his trust. In addition I started having fantasies of taking our arrangement 'all the way'. Fantasies that sometimes weirded me out a little, but other times my inhibitions didn't seem to matter much and I just wanted it. I wanted him.

I wished I could share my thoughts with him, seeing as he was the only person who knew exactly what I was going through, so I could figure out what it all meant, if what I was feeling and thinking and craving was normal, but I was too afraid to. Everytime I worked up the courage to bring up our arrangement, I just got shot down.

It was almost Christmas. The one year I had left with him, before he would go back to Japan, had dwindled down to six months. And I was feeling sick to my stomach for having to leave for a week to meet up with my family at the Maxwell ranch. I'd much rather spend Christmas with him, but instead I was forced to make nice with the woman who gave birth to me and the man who paid my tuition; that was all they were to me.

I pulled my duffel bag out from underneath the bottom bunk and started packing, even though I wasn't leaving until tomorrow night. I liked to get a head start, since I had classes all day tomorrow and I knew I would be insufferable if I happened to forget to pack something. More than anything the bag steadily started filling up with comics, books, DVD's and even some school work; anything to preoccupy myself with that week. As I rummaged through my drawers I came across the porn magazine that Heero and I had used for 'inspiration' that first time. Smirking I sat down on the carpet and relaxed back against the desk and thumbed through the pages.

The door opened suddenly and Heero stepped inside. With his eyes affixed to the clothes scattered across the floor he wondered, as he sidestepped the clutter: "Am I interrupting something?" His eyes found me amidst the mess and spotted the dirty magazine in my lap. He grinned cheekily. "I am interrupting something."

"No," I held up the magazine to show my trousers were still properly fastened. "But since you're here… Wanna have a go-round?" I tossed the magazine into the chaos and got up on my knees.

"Better not lose track of your porn, I have swim practice," From the open closet Heero picked out a change of clothes, his swim jammers and a towel.

I pouted. "Why? You already know how to swim," I deadpanned.

Heero fake-laughed as he stuffed the items into his shoulder bag. When he moved to walk past me I reached up and took firm hold of his hips, turning him to face me. With me on my knees my mouth was at the perfect height for the activity I had in mind.

"Duo, come on…" His attempt to push me away was only halfhearted. "I can't be late."

"I'll make it quick." I winked up at him.

"I'll still be late. And by the time I've returned the favor I'll be especially late."

"Then I'll just do you this time."

A frown dawned on his face. "What? Why?"

"It's cool. You can return the favor later," I hurried to explain. It was better if he didn't know that I liked giving it – not as much as receiving it, but still.

He sighed and turned up his wrist to look at his watch. "I can't. I can't be late."

I could tell he didn't want to leave, but I knew eventually his logic would win over his desires and it was just a matter of time. "But you won't be back until late at night… and I'm leaving tomorrow," I tried with a begging tone.

Heero chuckled. "I'm sure we can manage for one week."

Since he still didn't try to free himself from my hold, I decided to push my luck and once more risked bringing up the issue that had been a pink elephant in the room for few weeks. "Maybe, as a tie-over, we should… go all the way."

The previously amicable atmosphere became instantly frosty. He unhooked my thumbs from the belt loops in his jeans and took a step back, folding his arms in front of his chest. "We've been through this," He reminded me, like a chastising parent denying a child access to the cookie jar.

"I happen to think we should revisit the issue. I mean, I think actual sex is one of the benefits stipulated by the friends-with-benefits arrangement."

"Considering the fact that our arrangement differs quite greatly from the usual friends-with-benefits situation, involving people of the opposite sex, I think 'actual sex' has no place in our personal arrangement."

"But-"

Heero snorted. "Duo, you are not thinking straight-"

"Oh, that's funny."

He rolled his eyes at the unintended pun he had made. "I meant you aren't thinking rationally. You aren't thinking this through. Seriously, think about it."

I was and it was just making me feel more horny.

"Neither of us wants to bottom, we've already been over that. I bet neither of us could go through with it as the top either. That leaves us with blowjobs. Can we please drop this now? I feel like we keep repeating this same, useless discussion."

"We aren't, you keep cutting me off, you refuse to talk about it."

He shrugged. "Well, now we talked." He turned and headed out the door. "Finish packing."

"I'm still horny, you know."

"Then deal with it. You're on your own this week, better get used to it," With a grin, that at least let me know everything was still alright between us, he left.

I sat back on my haunches and with a sigh I stared at the mess that surrounded me. Honestly, I wasn't sure if I would last a week. I had become addicted to him. I also doubted whether he could last as easily as he proclaimed. He may be the more coy one of the two of us, but he always reacted enthusiastically. I dared to say he was as insatiable as me, he just knew that he never had to ask for it, because before long I would initiate it on my own accord.

His continuing refusal to take our arrangement to the next level was disappointing him, certainly as the idea had grown increasingly appealing to me lately. He didn't exactly leave the matter open for discussion, either he simply refused to talk about it, or he made the decision for the both of us, like he had just done. I supposed he was right, but that didn't change the way I felt. I still wanted more. I wanted that next level. But there was no rational way of convincing him to go along with it. Maybe it was time to play another game with him, to move the progress along. He needed a little nudge, like the first time I started sucking his dick. Something that took the rationality out of the decision making process and instead made it about our desires. Those were more easily persuaded. But I couldn't very well maneuver him on all fours during one of our sessions and expect him not to protest. I had to be much more cunning than that. More importantly, I had to be able to brush it off as a joke in case he still wouldn't be receptive to the idea, or else he might respond to my nudge by pushing me out of fourth story window.

Bored with packing and feeling turned on by my own thoughts I made myself comfortable on the carpet and reached for the porn magazine again. Aside from providing the required visual stimulation to make things happen, a particular image gave me an interesting idea that might sway Heero in favor of my suggestion to take things all the way. Filing the idea for later I flicked through the magazine to my favorite picture; the full page image of a guy bending a girl over a desk and taking her from behind. I paused. Wait, didn't I usually describe the picture from the girl's perspective? 'A girl bent over her desk, being taken from behind'? That was one of those thoughts that I preferred to scrap and toss away and never bother myself with again, so that is what I promptly did. Instead I focused on the pornographic image and unfastening my pants and pushing them down just far enough.

After a swift but rather uninspired right-hand-workout, I tossed the magazine back into a drawer, shoved my bag back under the bed and kicked the clothes and items I had strewn across the floor to a corner. I would clean that up later. And if I wouldn't, Heero would. And then he would bitch about it. But he was amusing when he got like that.

I made every effort to stay awake until Heero came back from practice, but eventually I had to surrender to the temptation of my top bunk and once my head was on the pillow, I couldn't keep my eyes open for much longer.

My dreams were very interesting, inspired by a particular picture from the magazine. When I woke up the next morning – Heero gone again for his morning run – I was excited to set my plan into motion.

I went to most of my classes, like the occasional-A student that I was, but I skipped the last two. I had to make some time to go to the mall before I would have to leave for the airport and the Holiday of Horror that awaited me.

When I came back from my hasty and decidedly awkward shopping trip I found Heero sitting at the desk in our dorm room, busily working on the next project he would ace, like the one I had proudly helped him with.

"Wassup, homeboy?"

"Everything is chill… dude," He replied absentmindedly as he hurried to scribble down his latest brilliant thought in his notebook before he spun the desk chair around to face me. "Where were you this afternoon? Next time maybe give a guy some notice when he has to get his own lunch."

"I had to skip the last couple of classes and lunch, so I would have time for some last minute holiday-shopping." I started to grin at the thought of the present in my backpack.

"Right. So you conveniently skipped on Math?" He quirked one eyebrow.

"Hey, with a tutor like you, who needs "The Patronizer"?"

"Mister Patrons," He emphasized, "is only talking to you like you are a five year old because you act like a five year old." He flashed me a smile.

I could never tell him this, but lately that smile sent shivers down my spine.

I shrugged. "Whatever, I have you, I don't need anyone else." Why did my heart constrict at that seemingly innocent statement?

"So what did you get them?"

I shook my head to rid myself of distracting thoughts. "Get… them?"

Heero chuckled. "Your parents? You said you went holiday shopping."

"Oh! No, I'm not giving them shit."

"Good, I'm sure that wasn't on their wish list." His smile turned into a smirk.

"You know, you can let some of the opportunities to insert a sarcastic comment slide… It'll keep me on my toes."

"Yeah? How do I get you on your knees?" He adjusted in his seat seductively.

Oh wow, that one totally blind-sighted me. "Uhhh…" Is my nose bleeding?

"Sorry, you seemed so rejected yesterday. I thought I'd make it up to you." He shrugged and straightened back up, effectively retracting the invitation that was previously extended.

I swallowed. Unfortunately I didn't have much time anyway. "Rain check?"

He shrugged again.

"What I was saying: I didn't get my parents a present. They've been naughty." I took off my backpack and reached inside it, producing a gift-wrapped present the size of a shoebox, complete with sparkly red bow. "I got something for you."

Inspite of the child-like glee that twinkled in his eyes at being offered a Christmas present – something he had never gotten, he had confided in me – he reminded me: "I told you years ago. I can't afford to get you anything, so it doesn't feel right to be accepting a present from you. It feels like charity."

I insistently held out the box towards him. "Look, if I did this right, we will both enjoy this present. It's not charity." I could barely contain my nervous laughter. "In fact, I'll bet you'll end up accusing me of being selfish."

His eyebrows formed a deep frown.

"It's not charity. Please just take it…" I looked at him expectantly. "If you don't I'll have missed a valuable math class for no good reason."

He glared at me for my unsubtle attempt at manipulation, forgetting to question my previous statement that must not have made any sense to him at that moment.

"Just take the present."

"Why?"

"Because you've been naughty too, this year, but in a way that I appreciate," I grinned shamelessly at him. "So you've earned a present."

"Fine." He took the box from my hands and his fingers moved to the bow, to start unwrapping.

"Woah, woah, woah!" I reached down and took hold of his wrists before he could pull the ribbon loose. "Not yet. It's not Christmas eve yet."

He glared at me. "You want me to wait until Christmas Eve to open it?"

"Well, yeah. That shouldn't be a problem for you, right? You are the patient one. The one who can 'hold out'?"

Heero pouted, looking down at the present in his lap. "Not when I'm curious."

There it is again, that overpowering urge to kiss him. I let go of his wrists and took a step back. Do not pounce him. Do not pounce him. Do not pounce him. Luckily my brain reminded 'my other brain' that I had to hurry if I was to make it to the airport on time, which made refraining myself a little more doable. I reached deep inside my backpack for the envelope that was on the bottom. "Here. I got you a card too. You can't read the card until Christmas Eve either," when I was far beyond is reach so he can't inflict any pain on me, which would likely be his initial instinct.

"Great. Now I already hate getting presents," He grumbled and he put the box, with the card on top, aside.

Given his reaction I felt a little bad about getting him a present that would probably just piss him off. I planned to pay no heed to the no-presents-rule the next time his birthday came around and I would get him a proper present, something that would make him smile when he opened it and I'd be there to see that smile. I already felt nervous under the pressure of getting him something amazing, even if his birthday was still months away.

Something to remember me by.

My heart ached again.

"Fuck, I really gotta go." I pulled my bag off the top bunk. I had finished packing it that morning.

"Good luck," He said, empathizing.

"Thanks. You too." We were both faced with the same unpleasant ordeal of being confronted with our less-than-beloved family. With a heavy heart I started for the door.

"Hey, Duo."

"Hm?" I turned around.

He smiled at me and it was brilliant. Whilst shrugging sheepishly he said: "For what it's worth: Merry Christmas."

I dropped my bag in the doorway and rushed back to him with two large strides. I leaned forward and promptly wrapped my arms around him in a tight embrace, completely catching him off guard. I was going to miss him. It hit me like a bitch slap. This goodbye was only for a week, what was I going to feel when he would leave for Japan and I wouldn't see him for God knows how long – if I was ever going to see him again? That must be like getting hit by a freight train. I wasn't looking forward to that.

"Jesus, Duo," He exclaimed, unsure of the unexpected hug. "You're going to be back before New Year's."

I sighed, but I still made no move to let him go. "I know. It just sucks. We should be spending Christmas together. You are more family to me than those fucking douchebags."

"Likewise. But we both have to put in some time to keep the monthly tuition payments coming."

"Yeah." Finally I detached myself from him. I felt silly for grabbing him like that, completely out of the blue. I dropped my hand on the top of his head and ruffled his already tousled hair, in a strained attempt to appear casual. "You know what? The two of us are going to fucking party this New Year's Eve, it's going to be awesome!"

My friend rolled his eyes. "Oh, joy."

"I'm serious, man! My parents will still be at the Ranch, I have the house all to myself. I'd be violating the laws of the universe if I didn't throw a party."

"Wow, the laws of the universe?" He wondered sarcastically, raising his eyebrows. "That sounds serious. I suppose you have no choice then."

"Exactly." I walked back to the doorway and picked up my bag. "New Year's dude, woohoo!" I shut the door behind me and hurried across campus to the underground metro station just outside the gates. I glanced at my watch and sped my pace, I wasn't behind schedule, yet, but I wanted to make sure I'd have time left at the airport to stock up on duty-free chocolate and candy. The only legal way I could make it through that week: being on a constant sugar-high.

The underground train took a detour through the tunnels under the city, so it took a little longer to get to the airport than if I had taken a cab, but it's much less of a hassle than calling and arranging a cab, they're not exactly parked by the door waiting for customers, like they are at the airport.

I checked in for my flight to Texas and was left with plenty of time to scour the duty-free stores and gather up a selection of unhealthy treats. I made sure to buy more than I knew I could stomach. Tootsie rolls at the Maxwell Ranch family reunion were like cigarettes in prison; useful for bribery. Although I didn't so much have to deal with seasoned criminals who have nothing lose, as the minions of evil themselves; my young cousins whose favorite holiday past-time was "The nutcracker," which had nothing to do with toys coming to life and breaking out in dance routines.

When it was time I boarded my plane with appropriate apprehension – not so much for the flight but for my destination – and endured the relatively short flight in coach.

Upon arrival in Texas I didn't have to wait for my luggage, my duffel bag had been small enough to bring with me as a carry-on. I struggled through the crowd of people coming and going to spend the holidays with the relatives. I nearly passed by a group of drivers in suits with silly caps on, holding up names, until I noticed "Maxwell" was scribbled on the board one of them was holding.

A little hesitant I backtracked to the group of men in black and asked the one holding my surname in black on white: "Hi. Are you here for me?"

"I don't think so, young man," he eyed me up and down distastefully. "I am here for a miss Lillith Maxwell."

Fuck, that was my aunt. "Oh, never mind then," I said hurriedly and moved to rush away before I could be spotted. Unfortunately, before I could escape my name was already being screeched.

"Duo! While I live and breathe! The rebellious son!" A flurry of white blonde hair and fur approached me pulled me into a tight embrace.

I made a face when my nose was pressed into what remained of innocent creatures of the natural world stitched together into one giant coat, draped over the shoulders of this tiny woman. She smelled of booze masked poorly by heavy perfume. "Aunt Lillith. It's been a long time."

"Keep up, nanny!" Aunt Lillith screamed while her mouth was still dangerously close to my ear.

I broke free of the embrace and watched a flustered young woman approach us, a struggling child on each arm. The twins, Maximilian and Montgomery. I forced on a smile. "Hey, Max. Monty."

"It's Maximilian."

"And Montgomery." They each corrected me.

"We're not little children anymore," One started.

"You have to address us by our proper names," The other added. Honestly I couldn't tell which one was which.

"Or call us mister Maxwell."

They grinned in unison.

I snorted. "Yeah… No." I looked at the attractive young woman, about my age. I pitied her, these guys were a handful. "I'm Duo." I didn't bother reaching out my hand for a formal introduction, she had to keep a tight grip on both midgets.

"Helena," She breathed, exhausted.

I was offered to ride along in the stretched limousine. I accepted only because I expected it would be a tedious challenge to find a cab given the holiday crowd and the worsening weather, not to mention the expenses.

Following a trying one-hour-drive, the limousine passed through the front gate and crawled down the mile long driveway to drop us off at the courtyard of the U-shaped stone mansion. The double front doors were adorned with Christmas decorations and small lights were painstakingly affixed to the bald branches of the two trees flanking the entrance.

In the grand foyer my parents appeared to greet aunt Lillith and her sons. Their surprised eyes settled on me.

"Hey," I greeted sheepishly. "You have every right to be surprised. You sent a car for your sister but not for your own son? It would have taken me hours to get here if I hadn't happened along aunt Lillith."

"Well, excuse me. But I was under the impression that my independent son could handle things all by himself. In fact, I remember him insisting on it." My father – imposing with his tall frame and power suit – argued.

My mother sighed, frustrated that me and my father were already starting in on each other.

"If you are going to force me to come here, you could at least bother to make sure that I would actually get here."

"Oh, what are you two going on about?" My aunt interrupted. "Everything worked out fine, didn't it?"

My mother touched my father's arm insistently and that was the end of it. The butler showed Lillith and her offspring to their rooms, whilst carrying their heavy luggage and my mother accompanied me upstairs to my room.

"I had the maid clean it up. I hope you don't mind," she said, trailing behind me as we headed down the corridor to my room at the far end.

"It's fine. There's nothing here anyway." I opened the door to the bedroom and paused for a moment. Just like my room at the mansion back at home it was a large but impersonal space. I felt no connection to either, those rooms were not my home. Those double beds were not my beds. My bed was a bunk bed. My home was a dorm room. My family was Heero.

I dumped my bag on the queen-sized bed, disturbing the neat, white silk sheets.

"She came across some old things. I wasn't sure if you would want to keep any of it, but I couldn't very well have her throw it out." She nodded at a box on the desk.

I approached it and looked down with dull eyes. Old drawing. Pictures. A ratty stuffed animal – a penguin. I touched it briefly, it's soft fur felt familiar. I had carried the damn thing around for years, I loved it and, as a young child growing up with distant parents and disinterested nannies, I believed it was the only thing in the world that loved me back. I remembered being very upset when we came home after spending Christmas here and I realized I had forgotten "Pepe." I begged for my father to find a way to bring him home, but my father said it was for the better that I had finally been separated from "that thing." He went to Texas several times that year, but never came home with Pepe. When Christmas finally came around again I searched everywhere, but I couldn't find him. It was so silly – it was only a stuffed animal – but it was a changing moment for me. I was only eight years old.

"How is school going?" My mother tried, jostling me awake.

"Fine."

"That's good." She straightened her skirt nervously. We didn't do this much; talking. "And how is your friend doing?"

"Great."

"Is he still seeing that Sally girl? She seemed very nice."

I stilled. She was talking about WuFei. And of course she was. The last time we had made an equally pathetic attempt at a normal conversation WuFei was still my best friend and Heero was nothing but a passing annoyance that I probably didn't even mention by name, if at all. "Yeah, he is still with Sally." Even though there was no way for me to be certain, I felt pretty confident that I was speaking the truth. WuFei was very seriously involved with her. He was devoted to her. And they made a great couple.

"And how are his studies going?"

"Good." I felt I could safely make that claim as well. I didn't want her to know the truth, that I hadn't seen him in over a year. I didn't want to get into our whole falling-out. Making it through the week was going to be difficult enough without my father knowing that I had cut ties with "the only positive influence in my life." Of course my father approved of WuFei, in spite of the racial differences that were an obstacle for my father, WuFei was studying to be a doctor – "a respectable position" – and more importantly: he was following in his father's footsteps.

"Do you want me to ask the maid to throw that box out?"

"No," I said with a sigh. "I'll see first what I can fit in my bag and take home with me."

"So it was a good thing then that I hadn't had her take it out right away?"

I looked back at her and offered her a smile. "Yeah. It was a good thing."

My mother wasn't a bad person, she just never got into the 'mom-role' like most women do after carrying a child and giving birth to it. It wasn't a secret to me that she had never wanted children to begin with, she was career-oriented, like my father, which is probably what attracted them to each other. She never welcomed the reassignment from business woman to mother and thus she never welcomed me; was never interested in me; never got to know me. As a result she never knew what to do when she was expected to act like a mother or make decisions like one. But I preferred her uncertainty to my father's approach to parenting. He didn't know what the Hell he was supposed to do or be as a dad either, so he just fully committed himself to treating me the only way he knew how: like businessman whom he couldn't trust, had to be harsh with and had to intimidate and manipulate to achieve his own goals.

"You can take some time to rest," My mother interrupted my train of thoughts, "dinner is served at seven." She excused herself and closed the door behind her.

I walked over to the big bed and fell backwards onto the mattress. I retrieved my phone from my pocket and noticed I had a text message from Heero.

"Arrive okay?"

I smiled at the succinct message. I pocketed my phone again. I wasn't going to answer him. He wouldn't be worried if I didn't answer. I couldn't answer any of his messages that week, especially after Christmas Eve, once he had opened the present. Honestly I doubted whether Heero could hold out so long. Like he said, if he was curious about something, he had to find the answer. He hated not knowing. He wanted to know everything. That attitude was exactly why I dared to hope that my plan would work. He had to open that present and once he had, he had to find out; he would have to find the answer to the wordless question it posed. At least, that is what I hoped. And I had to be far away and out of reach so he wouldn't have to think of me and just be free to give into his curiosity.

Of course it could all blow up in my face.

That was more likely.

But I enjoyed the idea while it was allowed to last. Just another strategy to keep myself entertained and sane during the holiday festivities. And if shit did hit the fan I had my back-up plan of claiming it was only a gag-gift.

That night I got another text from Heero, clearly alerting me that he hadn't followed my instructions and had not been able to resist unwrapping the present until Christmas Eve. Even though the message included inventive insults, I couldn't help but laugh, as well as be amused by the fact that even a brilliant and serious young man like Heero couldn't wait to open a present. It was that child-like quality of his that occasionally shone through because he never got to be a child – act like one – when he actually was one. Much like myself. It was rather endearing.

I left that message purposefully unanswered as well and surrendered to the horror of the following week.

After a few very long days it was finally Christmas Eve, the main event. During the course of the day more relatives and business associates had arrived. The mansion was filled with heated arguments, drunken laughter and screaming children.

By then I had been bitten in the leg two times, kicked in the groin six times and had my braid pulled countless times. I had sat down on a whoopi-pillow once, was ratted out two times, had lies told about me five times, had to chase a screeching kid around the house six times and had had every word I said copied so often and for so long, I had had long inner debates on which would be the best solution: homicide or suicide.

Still, none of that compared to the festering rage I experienced whenever my father addressed me. He constantly criticized me, questioned the value of education and patronized me. When there were people around, he just found a cunning way to hide his insults in scathing mockery that amused everyone but me.

Christmas Eve was much of the same torture, only then it was intercut by the children unwrapping the first of the obscene amount of presents their parents had got them in the name of Santa. There was nothing under the Christmas tree for me, but I didn't expect there to be. I couldn't even remember the last time my parents had gotten me a gift for Christmas, it always seemed so redundant to them, as they never pretended Santa existed for me. I was the little angry kid running around the schoolyard telling the others that Santa wasn't real.

Yet I enjoyed watching my nieces and nephews unwrap one present each. Their excitement was endearing. Even though most of them were old enough to know that the gifts were from their parents, not from a man from the North Pole with flying reindeer, there was still magic in their eyes. I also didn't mind the break from baby-sitting, being the oldest cousin, as they were all pre-occupied with their new toys after ripping them free from their packaging.

I wondered, then, what Christmas would have been like if the pregnancy Hilde had made me believe in had been real. My heart ached slightly. I imagined it to have been more idyllic than it could possibly have been, no doubt, but somehow I believed that it still would have been a better Christmas than it was now, at least then I wouldn't have had to come here, since my dad was in the process of disowning me when I shared the news of the pregnancy with him and my mother, before it turned out to be a lie.

"So you do like kids," Helena, Max and Monty's nanny, observed. "It didn't seem like it these past days."

I shrugged. "I don't dislike kids in general. I just really hate this bunch." I grinned at her.

"Miss Maxwell told me your ex-girlfriend pulled a fake pregnancy on you."

I blinked, eyeing her suspiciously. We had shared polite, superficial conversations since we both arrived, the depth of the subject came out of the blue. Not to mention she had practically read my mind. "She did, huh?"

"She likes to talk." She rolled her eyes.

"That's for sure." Aunt Lilleth was a real chatty-mouth when she was drunk and since she was drunk all the time more secrets were spilt than this family wanted to admit.

"Are you seeing anyone now?"

Wow, not the most subtle of approaches, I mused. "Uh, no. Well… No… I guess."

"You guess?"

I shook my head. "No, definitely no." I laughed at myself.

"You sure had to think about that for a long time," She observed, amused.

"It's complicated."

"Oh, I get it," She smirked knowingly. "You like someone but you haven't worked up the courage to admit it yet."

"No! No, that's not it at all!" I reacted defensively, startling her with my suddenly raised voice.

"Okay… Then what makes it complicated?"

"It's sort of a friends-with-benefits deal."

"Oh… She must be quite the friend."

I contained my laughter as this 'friends-with-benefits deal' was nothing like what she must imagining it to be. A quiet settled between us and I returned my focus to the surroundings, my eyes glancing from the children nursing their dolls to the adults nursing their drinks.

"Look," Helena started, "Please don't judge me for saying this, but we are both not having the best of times and it's not going to get any better. Maybe we can… entertain each other a little. Stress relief. Like, uh… acquaintances-with-benefits?"

I was perplexed at her suggestion and I could tell she was already starting to regret what she had said. Trying not to make her feel more self-conscious than she clearly already did, I said: "This deal I have with my friend is sort of exclusive. We agreed that we wouldn't… you know?"

"Oh." She chuckled nervously, relieved. "Oh God, I don't even know why I suggested it. I honestly think I'm losing my mind taking care of those kids and taking care of Lilleth as well. It makes me so anxious all the time. I'm in such dire need for normal contact that I've stopped being normal… Sorry, I don't mean to insult your aunt…"

I shook my head and smiled at her. "Don't worry about it, I know she is a handful. And those kids are like… Apocalypse Now. You would be right to quit. She recycles nannies like newspapers, that is why she stopped bothering to learn their names and just calls them 'nanny'."

Helena nodded. "Yeah, but she pays better than the other families I worked for did. I just have to stick it out a few more weeks, then I go back home, to Spain. Be with my own family finally, take care of them."

I instantly thought of Heero. He was going back home soon too, to take care of his family; his grandmother at least.

"Are you thinking about your friend?" Helena inquired, a bemused look in her eyes.

"Yeah…" I replied distantly, then I scraped my throat. "Yes. Yes. How could you tell?"

"You had this far-off look in your eyes all of a sudden, I just thought…" She smiled.

Straightening in my seat at the mysterious look in her eyes, I demanded curiously: "What?"

"I was thinking that you guys must be really close to make the leap to friends with benefits-"

"We're best friends," I informed her.

"Wow. Best friends. That is indeed complicated, as you said. But probably even more so than you realize."

"Oh?"

"Being best friends, you obviously really like each other, you care about each other."

"Sure."

"And you are having sex with each other, exclusively."

At her stretching pause I realized her words must have meant something to me, but I wasn't getting it.

She laughed at my confused expression. "So basically you are in an exclusive sexual relationship with someone you care about deeply – you might even say you love her. How is that different from a romantic relationship?"

I stared at her until my gaze absentmindedly drifted towards thin air. "Nooo. No, it's not like that at all. Trust me, we have, uh, 'insurance' against that. We like each other. We love each other, even. But there is no way we can be in love with each other. And that is what separates it from a romantic relationship."

"Alright."

"I mean it."

"Sure."

"Seriously!" Admittedly I was a little annoyed that I couldn't convince her that there was no romantic aspect to it. I didn't even know why her opinion mattered to me, I barely knew her and she didn't know a thing about my relationship with Heero. Hell, she thought Heero was a girl. Grumbling under my breath I dropped the issue. The silence became awkward and I disliked the tension in the atmosphere. Helena was pretty much the only normal person around and now my connection with her had been ruined. She was, as of then, yet another person I felt awkward around.

I excused myself and headed for the punch bowl. Aunt Lilleth had made it so I could count on the concoction to be plenty strong to take the edge off. Lingering at the buffet, picking at the haute-cuisine selection with a distasteful expression my ears caught the sound of my father's booming voice, entertaining a group of men by the fireplace.

"You know that with my connections I could have gotten him into any business school program – at Yale, at Harvard, at Brown, you name it – but no, he wants to become an artist," He laughed condescendingly and the others joined in. "When that pipedream fell through he still couldn't be persuaded in favor of a respectable career, nono, mister Artist deferred to studying architecture at some no-name institute."

I took a big gulp, but morbid fascination and curiosity kept me from walking away. I continued to listen.

"I honestly always thought he was better than that, smarter than that. Now I know better. Just last year he got scammed by some lower-class girl who pretended to be pregnant with his baby! He bought it hook, line and sinker! He was going to drop out, become a dad, make a family! Clearly the boy doesn't have a clue of what is good for him and where he should go with his life."

Nothing he said surprised me to hear, I knew what he thought of me. It was so predictable it didn't even make me angry anymore, I only felt that throbbing emptiness. I refilled my glass and snuck upstairs.

Sitting on the edge of the bed, in an empty room, drinking pink punch, on Christmas Eve made me feel incredibly alone and pathetic. I wished I could call Heero, but that would interfere with my plan. Wallowing in self-pity I got Pepe out of the box and carefully arranged the limp figure next to me on the bed in a sitting position. His presence didn't provide me with the same comfort that he used to when I was a young child. He was nothing but stuffing and fabric and one plastic eye. Slowly he started slouching forward until he eventually fell to the carpeted floor with a soft thud.

I got up, kicked open my duffel bag on the floor and started packing my things into it, including Pepe and the other contents of the box. I couldn't stay any longer. If I could manage to get a flight back home that night I could still spend Christmas Day with Heero. I didn't care about "the plan" anymore, I needed to be with my friend. I needed to be with my true family.

A soft knock on the door interrupted me as I busily stuffed my clothing into the bag.

"Come in."

The door opened and my mother appeared in the doorframe. "You're packing," She observed monotonously.

"Yeah. It's for the better."

She didn't argue with that. "Before you leave, I wanted to give you this." She held out her hand and presented me with a small gift, wrapped neatly in bronze wrapping paper and a deep red bow.

"You don't have to do that."

"Good thing then that I want to." In an attempt to act motherly she sat down on the bed and invited me to sit down next to her.

I sat down and took a deep breath. I was tired and I was eager to leave.

"I know that your relationship with us has been strained."

I snorted at the understatement.

She bit back a sneer and continued calmly: "I know that your father and I aren't good parents. We never learned how to become parents to you, for some reason, it never took. We never figured out how to interact with a young child; how to communicate, how to be gentle and loving. Your father and I aren't wired that way. I know that… we have been disappointing parents-"

"Well, I'm a disappointing son, so it all evens out."

"Duo, please."

"Sorry."

"What I wanted to say is that now that you are adult – and with the way you handled yourself during that crisis last year I do definitely see that you are an adult – I was hoping the three of us could try to mend things between us. That is what I wanted this gift to represent; a new start."

I was speechless. I accepted the present that was offered to me and after a final, hesitant glance, I pulled at the bow and tore away the paper. Inside was a black leather box with golden lettering that read "Breitling for Bentley Motors". I opened the hinged lid to reveal an expensive looking wristwatch. It was a big, ostentatious looking thing. I was disappointed. For some silly reason I had dared to hope she would blow me away with a personal gift, something meaningful. I realized she was trying, to the best of her abilities, but I didn't want a gold watch and for her to think otherwise made me ache inside. This wasn't a new start for me, this was same old, same old.

"Your father swears by this brand."

I started shaking my head.

"You can even dive with it to a depth of 100 meters."

"I don't dive!" I suddenly burst, startling her. "I don't dive! I hate swimming! I hate the water! I'm only ever going to find myself at a depth of 100 meters if I fall off a ferry and sink to the bottom because of this big, heavy thing!"

"Duo…"

"You say you want the three of us to mend things between us? Half an hour ago dad was downstairs telling his brothers and his friends how fucking dumb I am! What? Did he change his mind in the last thirty minutes? Does he want to 'mend things' now?" I snapped the lid of the box shut and held it out to her. "I don't want this."

"Duo, I know it's only a small gesture, a small step, but I want you to have it. I want us to start moving forward."

"No, you want to buy my affection. You want to buy away your guilt for neglecting me."

"I want to share my wealth with my son. I don't know how else to convince you that I want to be there for you."

I snorted. "It's bad enough already that I need you to pay for college tuition. Do you know how often I contemplated dropping out just so I would be free from you and dad?"

"Oh, Duo, please promise me you will never do that. I want you to finish school. I want you to be happy."

"Then why didn't you ever stand up for me against dad? When he was yelling at me, when he locked me up in the closet, when he hit me, even now when he is constantly insulting me?"

She didn't say anything.

"Well?"

"Because I didn't know any better! Of course I felt bad about how your father treated you when you were a child, but I had no idea how we were supposed to raise a child. You could be really difficult and I didn't know how to handle that!"

I jumped to my feet. "Difficult? Difficult?" I laughed bitterly. "You mean when I came to you in the middle of the night in tears, when I had had a bad dream? Or when I was afraid to go to school because the boys bullied me for being different, for being artsy and bad at sports?"

She bit her lip.

"Just be honest! You and dad thought I was a whiny cry-baby and you couldn't stand it. You let dad bully me too so maybe I'd toughen up and stop being such a whiner."

"I already admitted to being a bad mother!" She bit back.

"You weren't a bad mother. You couldn't be. Because you are not a mother. You were never there, you never cared. I don't think you have ever even given me a hug. You just handed me off to shrinks and nannies." I waved my arms dramatically. "I'm done. I'm so done. Excuse me, I have to make a call to book a flight back home." I promptly stomped out of the room.

I called to check for available seats on the next flight out and booked a ticket, then I gave myself some time to cool down – literally – on the snowy back terrace of the house. As the fluster of rage left my body I started to regret my emotional outburst. She couldn't have picked a worse timing, the past couple of days had been hard on me, I felt drained, and having my father make jokes about me like that, confirming what I already suspected, it was like being kicked when I was already down on the ground. On top of that, in spite of everything, my expectations had been too high.

When goosebumps started to appear on my skin and my body started to shiver I went back inside. I peered around a corner into the formal living room and saw my mother had rejoined the festivities. I was tempted to make my way through the crowd and apologize to her, but I didn't. I needed a little more time to regain my composure and I knew that as soon as I would step into view my father would instantly start pushing all the wrong buttons. It was better for me to make a stealthy departure.

I collected my bag upstairs and made a final sweep through the room to make sure I didn't forget anything. When I was satisfied I was ready to leave, I headed back down stairs, slipped into my coat and stepped outside right as the taxi I had called for drove up. The ride was going to cost me a fortune but I didn't have any other choice.

At the airport I found myself a seat at the bar and ordered a strong drink.

"Merry Christmas," The bartender said as he handed me the glass.

"Does it look like it?" I challenged sarcastically.

He shrugged and walked off to tend to another customer.

As I waited for my flight to start boarding I expected someone would have noticed my absence at the party and tried to contact me on my cellphone. But there were no calls and the latest message was the angry one from Heero dating a couple days back. I hoped that he could put aside his anger at the trick I tried to pull on him and be sympathetic to my personal issues, for the sake of Christmas.

Delayed by an hour due to the snow, the plane finally departed and I calculated that I would be home around 1 AM.

At the airport back in my hometown I got into another cab, as opposed to the underground train. Traveling by subway was ill-advised at that hour of the night, even at Christmas.

When I finally arrived at the gates of the university dorm house grounds, I had made a significant dent in my savings, which weren't much to begin with. I was the type of guy who went sailing as soon as his ship came in, so to speak. And it wasn't as if working at the on-campus bar was like a goldmine.

All that money spent and what for? I could have stayed here, with Heero, and actually have a decent Christmas and it wouldn't have cost me anything. Now my wallet felt empty and my heart heavy.

With my duffel bag slung over my slouched shoulder I treaded across the grounds towards dorm building B. There were no Christmas festivities on campus. Too many people went home for the holidays to make hosting a party worth the trouble. Most of the dorms were probably empty. Even Nash went home and he hated his dad too. I supposed it was a universal thing; even if you can't stand your family, you're still obliged to attend their Christmas parties.

Heero might not even be home. He was forced to spend Christmas Eve at his dad's and last time the man blackmailed him into sleeping over so they could share Christmas Day morning as well.

I wondered if all those much-hated dads actually meant well. That they were all just misunderstood. They paid for our education – even if they didn't agree with it -, they seemed to want to spend time with us. And all these years, I thought to myself, even though my father did not reunite me with my beloved Pepe, he didn't throw him away either. He hid him somewhere.

Was that supposed to mean anything to me? I didn't know.

I entered the dorm building quietly and snuck upstairs. In case someone – Heero – was home, I didn't want to wake them up in the middle of the night. I slowly pushed the key into the lock, trying to be as quiet as possible. I opened the door and as the light from the hallway flooded into the tiny room I noticed a blur of movement on Heero's lower bunk.

"Duo?" A thick voice asked.

Using my elbow I routinely flicked on the light and stepped inside. "Hey." I wondered how long it would take for him to start yelling at me regarding the gift I had given him.

Heero lay on his back on his bed, his legs bent, knees high up. He held his sheets, almost protectively, up to his chin. "What are you doing back so soon?" He inquired. He appeared a little flustered. "I wasn't expecting you until the twety-sixth."

I dropped my bag and lowered myself onto one of the desk chair, spinning around too face him. "I couldn't stay any longer. My dad… Well, it's nothing you don't already know. Nothing new."

"Hmhm. And how was your flight?" He asked hurriedly.

I furrowed my eyebrows. Something was definitely up. Why wasn't he attacking me about the present? And why did he seem so nervous? "Uh… okay. Delayed a little, because of the snow. How was your Christmas Eve?"

"Fine. Don't you want to you take a shower of something? Freshen up?" He was talking really fast. For some reason he wanted me to leave the room.

"Why?"

"I just figured that since you've been traveling for a while, you'd like to clean up a bit."

In the brief silence before he started rattling on about how nice it would be to take a warm shower, my ears picked up on a faint noise; a soft buzzing. It was like an electric toothbrush, or something, but quieter.

"- I know that when I get off a plane I definitely want to take a shower. Of course that's an international flight - "

Or something! My eyes widened with realization but I took care to hide my reaction quickly. I let him ramble on for a little while, quietly enjoying my perverse, self-satisfied thoughts whilst suppressing a devilish grin. With my mischievous eyes focused on his face I noticed the hint of sexual arousal he was experiencing in the way his eyelids were slightly lowered, the relaxation in his brows and that he never closed his mouth but rather kept his lips slightly parted.

"You should really go take a shower. You'll feel better. And then we'll talk," He urged me. His fingers started fidgeting with the hem of his sheets and his knees started to rub together almost imperceptibly.

"I figured you would want to talk to me right away about the present I gave you," I stalled.

The blush on his cheeks flared. "Oh, uh, I didn't get a chance to open it yet."

Kinky little liar, I thought. "Then why did you send me that angry text message? I thought for sure you were angry about the gift."

"No. No. Hn." He bit his lips momentarily as a moan threatened to slip out, but as the silence settled, once again revealing the soft buzz, he made a face and elaborated – at higher volume than usual to hide the background noise: "I thought you had packed my MP3-player. That's what I was angry about. I honestly don't know what the present was. Nnnn."

I grinned and leaned forward. "What's wrong? Are you in pain?" I recognized the expression on his features, I had studied it often enough, secretly enjoying it. He was on the edge. He was close. I had to lean forward to hide the growing bulge in my lap.

"No, I'm just tired. Let's go to bed. Go downstairs and brush your teeth and get changed."

"I was really hoping we could talk."

"Talk?" He whimpered.

"Yeah. I'm glad you haven't opened the present yet. I think there is something we have to talk about first."

"Oh? Ah." He squeezed his eyes shut but forced them open again to look at me, keeping up pretenses. He was so distracted that he didn't even realize I already knew what he was still trying to hide so desperately.

"I think we should really discuss this guilt you feel about getting a present, because you can't afford to give a present back."

"Really? We need to talk about that now?" He gritted through his teeth impatiently.

"I think it's very important that we get to the root of that issue. And if it takes all night, then we'll just talk all night. All night long. The whole, entire night-"

"Will you please just leave the room for one goddamned second?!" He tightened his fists around the handfuls of sheets.

"Why?"

"Because I really need to do something!"

I got up from the chair and slyly moved over to the bed, sitting down on the very edge, watching Heero's eyes widening at me coming closer. "Do you need to come?" I whispered sensually.

Heero's eyes narrowed but his glare was mostly ineffective given the context. "You knew?! You knew! You fucking bastard!" He relinquished the sheets to hit me but that gave me the opportunity to yank the sheets away.

I stared lustfully at the body that was revealed. Heero was completely undressed, his skin glistening with a sheen of sweat, the muscles in his abdomen and thighs tight, his erection curving back against his stomach. He kept his legs bent at the knee, his thighs firmly pressed together. There was no visible evidence, but I could still hear it and it made me horny as hell.

I maneuvered around to sit on the bed on my knees, allowing me easier access to him. I enclosed my hand around his manhood and started pumping slowly and sensually, while I leaned forward and began to worship his chest with my tongue and lips.

Heero groaned. His weak hands made a half-hearted attempt to push me off him. "Don't. Stop, please." The following moan contradicted his statement.

"Don't worry, I won't stop," I said, purposefully misconstruing his words. "I know you don't want me to stop."'

He buried his hands in his thick hair and threw his head back.

My body was on fire. I couldn't recall ever being that aroused. My every nerve yearned to be stimulated by him. On a dare my lips caught a nipple and I started to suckle on it. Suddenly one of his hands was buried in my hair. I dreaded he was going to twist his fingers into the strands and pull me up, but he didn't. He moaned loudly, completely lost to the sensations. Normally he wouldn't have allowed me to take liberties like that, but he had already been close before I even came into the room. My present had a strong effect on him. I enjoyed reaping the benefits of it.

I moved my hand down to his balls, rubbing my palm over them. I stretched forward for my mouth to reach his ear and I whispered demandingly: "Open your legs."

He turned his head to look at me defiantly, but slowly his expression started to soften, until eventually he had a look of acceptance about him, and trust.

I continued to look him in the eye as I felt him spread his legs. Without breaking eye-contact I slipped my hand down between his thighs until my fingers encountered the hard plastic of the end of the vibrator sticking out of him.

At the small movement Heero closed his eyes and turned his head away with an embarrassed moan.

I crawled back down his body to sit between his legs. Heero groaned in displeasure at being so exposed, but the sounds he made soon turned more favorable when I started slowly pulling the happily humming vibrator out of him and then pushing it back inside, while simultaneously stroking his dick.

"I take it you like your present?" I inquired with a grin.

"Fuck you."

I let out a single, hearty laugh, then redirected my focus to what I was doing.

The vibrator was modestly sized, certainly not nearly as big as I was, but the guy at the sex-toy shop assured me that a smaller model would be better suited for first time users. He was very helpful and informative. I supposed I ought to have been mortified, but instead I was turned on by the very idea, inspired by a picture in the porn magazine of a girl pleasuring herself with a dildo, albeit considerably larger in size than the vibrator that had been recommended to me.

I had hoped that after the initial repulsion that Heero would have no doubt experienced upon opening the present, his innate curiosity would get the better of him and the privacy that he had – with me being away for the week – would allow him to explore without feeling pressured or embarrassed. But I had always recognized the chances of success were slim. Even if he did use the toy and even if he did enjoy it, I took into account the likelihood that he simply would never tell me about it. So things turned out pretty great.

Merciful as I was – insert laughter here – I leaned forward and took Heero's dick into my mouth, sucking on him in the same rhythm in which I was moving the toy inside him. Rather than using my free hand to offer myself some minor relief, I placed it on his abdomen, relishing in the slick feel of his skin and the tensing of the strong muscles underneath as his climax drew nearer.

I loved it, I realized. I loved sucking his dick, but that was no real epiphany, that had occurred to me a number of weeks ago. I loved giving him this pleasure. This new, intense and intimate kind of pleasure, more intimate even than giving him a handjob or a blowjob. And I loved that he enjoyed it as much as he seemed to, that opened up enticing possibilities that made my cock pulse within the confines of my slacks. I moaned around his erection and that was the last push required.

With a yelp and his hands seeking purchase in my hair, he climaxed, his back arching high off the bed. I could tell he tightened around the vibrator that was as deep inside him as it could be, I could hardly move it anymore.

I struggled to swallow all of the come that was produced by his powerful orgasm, some escaped through the corner of my mouth.

"Oh, God. Oh, God."

"Ah, I see I can make a religious man out of you yet," I jested and I wiped away the semen on my chin with my sleeve.

"Shut up," He breathed. "Please take that thing out of me."

"Why? Could you come again if I didn't?"

"No. And trust me, I've tried."

I grinned. Heeding his request I carefully pulled the toy out of him, twisting the end to turn it off and placed it on the bed. I knew the sheets would get dirty, but laundry wasn't my concern at that moment.

He sat upright and scooted back to the headboard. He picked up a bundle of fabric by his pillow that turned out to be his shirt and put it on. It was long enough to cover his groin as well. His pajama bottoms were not within reach, so he didn't bother with them.

"I hope this means you're not angry anymore for giving you this present?" I asked, referring to the death threats he had sent me earlier.

"Oh, I'm still angry. Count on it. It's not fair that I had to be embarrassed like this."

"Alright," I started with a shrug. "You want me to go through something embarrassing, to even the score?"

He thought it over briefly. "I do. Yeah."

"Fine. I want to have sex with you. And not just now, but in general. I've wanted it for a while. And right now I want it really bad. I don't know why, I just do. Jesus, Heero, look at me. I'm fucking rock hard!"

Heero stared.

"I want to have sex with you," I repeated for shock-value. "Embarrassing enough? Are we even?"

"No," He said decisively.

"No?"

"No. Because I want to have sex with you too," He admitted angrily.

My eyes widened. Even with what had just happened, I hadn't expected him to admit to that, I hadn't even dared to hope that he would actually want it, not so soon at least.

"I want you to fuck me, okay? That's what you wanted to hear right? That's what you wanted to accomplish with that gift, right? Well, fucking congratulations are in order. I like it!" He made big, angry gestures with his arms. "I've used that goddamned thing so many times since I first gave into my curiosity I'm surprised I haven't worn it down to a nub by now!" His enraged rant reduced him to labored pants. His face was flustered. His eyes were stern.

In a flash I was on top of him, pushing his legs apart so I could settle between them and raising his shirt up to his collarbone to expose his body once more. My hands started touching; greedily, eagerly. But I was careful not to give into the urge to kiss him on his lips, instead I latched my mouth onto his neck, suckling on the sweaty skin. I paused my ministrations long enough to take off my shirt.

He allowed it momentarily, probably because he was in shock, but soon his hands were against my chest and he was pushing me away. "What are you doing?"

"I'm going to fuck you."

"What?!" He pushed me away so hard I rolled off the bed.

"It's what you want, you said it yourself! It's what we both want!" I argued, a little bitter at being faced with rejection.

"Are you crazy? Just because we both want to, doesn't mean that we should!" He gathered his sheets into his lap to protect his modesty.

"Come on, Heero. When you agreed to this friends-with-benefits thing, you didn't seriously think that we would stick to blowjobs only?" I climbed back onto the bed but kept a distance between us, recognizing that if I got too close for comfort his fist would be all over my face it retaliation. "What is more beneficial than having sex?"

"I think oral sex is plenty beneficial."

"Oh yeah? Than why did I come home to find you with that thing up your ass?"

"Shut up!" He yelled hoarsely.

"No!" I argued childishly, crossing my arms in front of my chest defiantly. "Look, I'd get it if you hadn't liked it. If you hadn't liked it I would have dropped it. I tried a bit myself, with my fingers and I wasn't into it and I sure wouldn't appreciate having to end up 'taking it' anyway, so I wouldn't force myself on you. But you said yourself that you liked and I have certainly never seen you come so powerfully."

Heero buried his face in his hands. "Please, shut up."

"So you like it? What the fuck is wrong with that? It's just stimulation. From what that guy at the sex shop told me I'm actually the freak for not liking it."

"Ohhh, why are you still talking?" Heero mumbled into his palms.

"Why are you so embarrassed?"

He shot a glare at me. "Why? Why?! Maybe because I let my best friend fuck me with a vibrator? How's that for a reason?"

"Yeah and then you came into my mouth and I loved that."

"We're not gay, Duo," My best friend stated definitively.

"I didn't say we were!"

"I'm afraid it's going to ruin our friendship."

"You said the same thing about handjobs and blowjobs. But we've been doing that for weeks now and we're still fine. Right?"

"Right." He sighed and looked down. "But you can't honestly believe that it's going to be easy to just have sex with other on the side. I'm afraid… I'm afraid I won't be able to look you in the eye anymore." He let out a nervous chuckle. "I can barely look at you now."

My heart clenched painfully. "I don't want that." I scooted a little closer to him. "Look, for what it's worth, you don't have to be embarrassed. I'm not judging you. In fact, I thought it was really hot, the way you enjoyed it."

His cheekbones flared a bright red. "You're not helping."

"Sorry."

Finally his eyes met mine again. He could probably tell that I was disappointed, but rather than judging me or distrusting me, he offered: "We can keep doing blowjobs. That was fun right?"

I couldn't help but smile. "Yeah."

He nodded and smiled back at me shyly.

I ran my hands through my hair and let out a long sigh. My entire body deflated, exhaustion catching up with me. "I'm sorry about the lousy Christmas gift…" I apologized sincerely. "Especially since you were so excited about it before."

"Don't be. I liked it."

"Maybe we can incorporate it next time?" I wondered, hopeful.

He made a face. "It's probably better if we forget about the thing altogether. In fact, I planned to get rid of it before you came home. I still plan to get rid of it. I don't think it's a good idea to get too… attached to it."

"You're probably right."

"I usually am." He smirked.

A weight was lifted off my shoulders at his lighthearted remark, even though I could tell he still had trouble maintaining eye-contact, his cheeks still tinted with a red hue. "I think I'm going to take that shower now. A cold one."

"Would you rather I-"

Knowing what he was offering I shook my head. "No thanks, I'm tired. And I do like taking a shower after getting off an airplane." I winked at him. I got some clean clothes from the closet and snuck back downstairs. Underneath the spray of water the events of the night replayed in my head and I had the turn the water colder and colder still to keep my body under control.

I didn't share Heero reserves regarding sexual intercourse between us. I figured that was because he was faced with being the bottom. I didn't find that position appealing either and I couldn't imagine myself accepting that role, even as I realized how incredibly hypocritical that was of me. The possibility that it was more than role assignment that caused these differing opinions – willing and not-willing – between us nagged at me. After all, Heero had already admitted that he enjoyed that kind of stimulation – and I had already been witness to that, part of that even. There was something holding him back from taking that final leap, something that I didn't experience. That was slightly disconcerting. Ex-girlfriends had oftentimes accused me of being a sex-fiend. Maybe they were right. Clearly there had to be something off in my brain for me to be this okay with the thought of having sex with my male best friend, regardless of positions. I should feel reservations, but I didn't. They were in my head, sure, like words being read off a clinical text, words that never hold any meaning, even though they were correct. What I felt was not what those words were saying. What I felt was my heart thudding, making my chest feel full, making me feel alive. What I felt were the tips of my fingers tingling. What I felt were shivers running down my spine. What I felt was my dick growing hard as a need expanded within me, a need to touch him, a need to be inside him in every sense of the word.

I had to be crazy.

"Or bi," I joked to myself.

My body froze under the cold spray.


	11. Chapter 11

**Thousand Words**

**Eleven**

His lips felt amazing against mine. He had his hands against my sweaty chest. I had my hands on his writhing hips. He sat upright, throwing his head back. His moan was soundless, but mine wasn't. He was straddling my lap as I lay prone in bed. I let him take control of the pace – which he set at maddening slow, leisurely rolling his hips – the muscles in my thighs straining to keep me from thrusting up into him.

"Heero," I groaned appreciatively and I breathed a sigh of relief when he leaned forward again. He brushed my sweat soaked bangs from my face and then recaptured my lips. His skin felt feverishly hot against mine. His deep moan interrupted our kiss.

"Oh, yeah, baby. You love it." I strongly grabbed the back of his neck and crushed our mouths together again.

He sat up again, quickening the rhythm of his downward thrusts. He trailed one hand down his neck, across his chest and abdomen and took hold of his own arousal, gasping as he did.

"Yeah, Heero, stroke it," I gritted through my teeth, watching him pump his fist up and down his swollen shaft with hooded eyes.

All of a sudden I felt a stinging pain in stomach. He hit me? He hit me! What the fuck?

I was hit again, even harder this time and I shot upright in bed. I blinked and looked around myself wide-eyed. It was morning and I was alone in my bed, fully clothed. It was baffling.

"For fuck's sake, Duo,"

I looked to the side and saw a very angry Heero standing by the side of the bed. Judging by his apparel he had just returned from his daily morning run.

"Now you're dreaming about me jerking you off?" He questioned, more than a little perturbed.

"Sorry," Was all I said. Apparently I had been talking in my sleep, thankfully he misinterpreted my words. I wasn't stupid enough to admit to him I was dreaming of something far more intimate than a handjob. I frowned at him. "Since when is violence the solution?" I rubbed my abused stomach, at least it effectively dealt with the impressive morning wood I must have been sporting.

"Since everything else is failing." To emphasize his point he kicked my duffel bag that still lay unpacked on the floor since I came back from the Maxwell Ranch two days ago. "You promised me yesterday you would unpack this thing. I nearly killed myself heading out the door in the dark this morning."

I laid back and rubbed my eyes. "It's your own damn fault for being a morning person. Bad things come to those who get up before the sun does."

"I'm going to take a shower and when I get back up you better be unpacking."

"Oh, God. It's like we're married."

"That's not funny."

"I know it isn't," I dead-panned and yelped when my pillow got ripped out from under my head and I only had enough time to close my eyes protectively before I was hit in the face with the thing. I started laughing. When he hit me again my hands hurriedly reached out to grab his wrist and I pulled him up, forcing him to climb up onto the mattress of the lower bunk. He looked a little shocked upon discovering how close our faces were. I took a deep breath. He smelled of perspiration but I loved it, it reminded me of our dream, where we were sweating together. Uncharacteristically uncomfortable with the closeness I released my grip on his wrist and he stepped back down to the carpeted floor. He announced once more that he was going to take a shower and then he was out the door, the towel that was draped over his shoulder flying behind him like a cape on a superhero fleeing a dangerous situation.

"Damn," I whispered to the ceiling. I had been pretending that nothing had changed, that our arrangement was still as casual-as-you-please, but in spite of my efforts I could not continue to ignore the alarming facts. I was enjoying this thing between us – our extracurricular activities – more than Heero was and I could not deny that that had to mean something. Never before had I questioned my sexuality. I had my first girlfriend when I was ten years old, the relationship was as short lived as my more recent involvements had been, but ever since then I had never been single for long. I liked girls. I liked being with them. And as I got older I liked kissing them and I liked touching them. There was never any reason for me to doubt that I was whole-heartedly straight. I never truly liked – loved –one girl in particular, which was why we always ended breaking up, but there was nothing suspicious about that, right? I was still young; a young guy. I brushed it off with the reasoning: It's just what young guys do. But things were different now. Sleeping with their best male friend, that wasn't something young guys just did. It was so confusing though, if I really was bisexual, shouldn't I have figured that out sooner?

With a groan I crawled towards the opening of the bedframe by the ladder and jumped down. I pinched my shirt between my thumb and forefinger and sniffed the fabric. I wrinkled my nose, apparently my dream had caused me to sweat quite a bit. I headed downstairs to shower myself, hearing the clatter of water in the second bathroom down the hall that Heero was in. Most of the guys in our dorm building were with their families for the holidays and for those that remained it was way too early, so I had the luck that the other bathroom was free.

When I was finished Heero was already upstairs. I paused in the doorway, patting the rope of hair over my shoulder dry with my towel, not caring that my shirt was getting soaked. He had taken it upon himself to start unpacking my duffel bag. I didn't mind that he was in my stuff, I had been sharing those tight quarters with my control-freak of a friend for so long the word privacy had lost all meaning and all relevance. I wasn't bothered, I only felt a little guilty that he, at times, got stuck cleaning up my mess.

He gave me an odd, amused look when he pulled the penguin out from between the clothes that were tightly stuffed in there.

I chuckled and sat down on the floor next to him, my back against the lower bunk. "That's Pepe." I accepted it from him. "Don't laugh."

"I won't." He was smiling though. "What's all this stuff?" He produced toy soldiers and stacks of old drawings and old pictures.

"Just some stuff the maid found during spring cleaning. The Ranch has like eleven guest bedrooms but there was no room for this old junk."

"Wow, eleven... How did you manage, growing up in such hardship?" He teased. He knew I didn't have an easy upbringing, he was just trying to get me to feel better. He started rifling through the pictures.

I groaned, seeing myself as a baby. "Oh God, don't look at those." Embarrassed I looked away, focusing on the stuffed animal in my lap. I whipped my head around when I heard Heero exclaim:

"Is this you?" He held up one of the photographs for me to see.

Recognizing the picture I was absolutely mortified. It was a picture of myself, my young, teen self, standing in a forest by a giant redwood tree, wearing my hideous beige camp uniform. "Fuck, I thought I burned all pictures of me at that age."

Heero turned the picture back to face him and stared at the image, unabashedly shocked. "So this is you?" His disbelief was appropriate, I prided myself on looking nothing like that anymore.

"Yeah," I grumbled.

"How old were you?"

"Fourteen."

"I would not have guessed that."

"I know, the fat adds at least ten years."

Heero looked up at me sharply, he could tell I was genuinely upset. "I'm sorry. I wouldn't have brought it up if I had known…"

I shook my head. "No, it's fine. It was a long time ago. It's just a little weird to see myself like that again, you know? Brings back memories."

"What kind of memories?" He questioned tentatively.

"Memories of fat-camp."

Heero looked back at the picture wide-eyed again. "That explains the uniform."

"Yep, my dad shipped me to California to this camp, supposedly the best fat-camp in the country. Not after sending me to every doctor he had personal connections with. He was sure it was a thyroid problem or something. I gained like fifty pound in less than a year." I shrugged. "Food was love to me. Anyway, this place was like a concentration camp, I was there the whole summer and lost most of the weight. I guess I should be grateful, my dad was kind of cruel about it, but the kids at school were worse."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah. They called me-" I stopped myself and bit the inside of my cheek. I chuckled nervously. "I shouldn't say."

"You know you can trust me."

I never doubted that. "They called me 'Maxwhale'." It was so stupid, but the memory still caused a nauseous feeling in the pit of my stomach.

"Dicks."

I let out a hearty laugh.

"Were they nicer to you after you lost the weight?"

"My father sent me to a different school after that summer. He was sick of listening to me whine about the mean boys at school, so he gave me a fresh start."

"I guess that's nice… in his way."

"Yeah, maybe. I did lose contact with the friends I had when he made me transfer school but in hindsight it was for the better, I didn't want that name to haunt me. It still hurts a little. Silly, isn't it?"

Heero looked at me with earnest eyes. "Not at all."

I smiled in gratitude. "Don't tell anyone, okay?"

"You know I won't." It was barely more than a whisper.

"Yeah."

He handed the picture to me. "Are you going to get rid of it?"

I looked down at the embarrassing image of myself. "Nah. It lasted this long, I might as well hold on to it. Maybe one day I'll be able to laugh at it. Until then I'll find a secure place to hide it." I tucked it in between the other photos and would find a hiding place for the bunch of them later. "What about you? Do you have any horribly embarrassing pictures of yourself."

"Everyone has pictures like that," He replied matter-of-factly.

"Well, what's yours? You know my dirty little secret." I winked at him.

He rolled his eyes and scrunched up his face to fight the smirk. "There may or may not be a picture of myself dressed as a girl for a school-play."

My jaw dropped, I couldn't stop it. "You're messing with me."

"Officially I will deny the existence of this picture, but I will remind you that I went to an all-boys school, so while they selected plays with as few female characters as possible, sometimes there was no other option."

"Why did I not know this when I still hated you? It would have made me feel so much better," I joked and caught his fist before he could playfully punch me in retaliation. "God, an all-boys school," I continued with mirth, "No wonder you give a hell of a blowjob."

He dove on top of me. "Fuck you, Maxwhale!"

I laughed, it didn't hurt when he said it. He was straddling my hips – not dissimilar to my dream - and he had my arms pinned above my head. I planted my feet on the floor and pushed up, twisting my body. As expected Heero fell to the side and in one swift motion I rolled on top of him and thanks to catching him by surprise he let go of my hands, so I grabbed his instead and immobilized them. With a cocked eyebrow I remarked mischievously. "You know there is only one thing still abnormally large about me."

He rolled his eyes. "Oh please, don't blow your own horn."

"Why would I? You do it so much better."

He threw his gaze up at the ceiling. "I walked right into that one…" He let out a breathy chuckle but it died down when he noticed my stare. I suspected it was in that moment that we both realized our play-fighting had left us in quite a compromising position; us lying on the floor, me between his legs, most of my weight resting on him.

I noticed he was panting. He was nervous. I wasn't. Self-conscious about what that meant I let go of his arms and sat up. Surprise – maybe even confusion – was evident on his features, but he didn't say anything.

"So, where do you think I should hide these?" I inquired, picking up the collection of pictures. "Space behind the walls? Loose floorboards? False bottom in a drawer?... Bank vault?"

"Just put them between your clothes. No one else comes in here without us present anyway."

"Hmm, in the closet huh, is that where yours is?"

He scowled at me.

"I'll find a suitably secret place for them." For the time being I decided to hide them in one of the compartments of my duffel bag. I did worry that some of the other guys from the dorm building, Nash in particular, would ransack our room if they had the chance. Like I said, the word "privacy" was only ever thrown around sarcastically around here. I just had to take extra care to lock the door behind me when I'd leave.

Before kicking the bag under the bed where it belonged I grasped the last handful of clothes and as I pulled it out a square box was revealed on the bottom. "Fuuuuck," I drawled. I dropped the clothes and reached in for the box.

"What's that?" Heero crawled over curiously.

"My mom's idea of a Christmas gift."

"And your idea of a-?"

"Bribe." I flipped the lid open and showed him the monstrous watch.

"Wow… it's… extravagant." He made a face.

"It's hideous." I looked at it, displeased. "Worse still, my dad practically wears a twin. It'd be like a matching set. He would approve. I hate wearing things he would approve of even more than I hate wearing things that are just plain ugly. I told her I didn't want it."

He took the box from me and stared at the heavy, gold thing with a mixture of awe and disgust. "And she hid it in your bag anyway?"

"I guess."

He shrugged. "Maybe you should just keep it and wear it next time you see them. It'll make them happy."

"That's another reason why I don't want to wear it. I don't want to make them happy. I'm in the business of trying to make myself happy, since they never bothered." I looked at him with a sudden grin. "You're vice-president, by the way."

"Vice-president?"

"Of the business devoted to making me happy."

"Oh." Adorably he seemed to give it serious thought. "Am I performing my function to your satisfaction?"

I smiled. "You've exceeded my expectations. You can expect a Christmas bonus."

"Cool." He looked back at the watch. "So, mister president, what are you going to do with that?"

I unceremoniously stuffed it back into the bag and then pushed it under the bed. "Return it." Eager to ignore the very existence of the watch I got up from the floor and gathered my laundry. "I suppose I'll do a load, then. Do you have stuff?"

He got up as well. "No, I did laundry yesterday. I'm going to make breakfast, do you want an omelet?"

I smirked at him. "That would make me very happy."

We both headed downstairs. Heero went into the kitchen and I walked down the hall to the tiny laundry-room in the back. "Put some meat in mine please!" I called after him. Once I had carelessly separated the clothes and put the first bundle into the machine I walked back to the kitchen and dropped myself down into a chair with a heavy sigh. "I just realized it's only nine-thirty. What in God's name am I supposed to do all day?" Usually on my days off I would make an effort to at least sleep in until noon.

"I don't know," He replied with his back turned towards me as he stood at the stove. "Weren't you going to throw a New Year's party?"

I rolled my eyes. "Heero, it's a college kegger and if we're lucky something like ten people will choose my party over one of the many other parties that night. I'll stop by a seven-eleven on the day and pick up some beer and barnuts."

He laughed. "Have you even invited anyone?"

"I've spread the word. I've put it on Facebook. Zero likes."

Heero turned around with a frown. "I don't know what that means."

"It means I'm a loser… And the fact that you didn't know what it means, means you're a loser too, so I guess you're coming?"

"I guess it's my duty as vice-president to attend." He turned back to his task.

I stared at his behind. He was wearing his favorite, faded black and blue checkered button-up shirt – his 'lumberjack shirt'. I must have seen him wearing it a million times but for the first time I noticed how nicely it fit him; a little tight across the chest, a little loose around the waist. The sleeves casually rolled up to his elbow. The top three buttons open. My gaze trailed down. The fit of his jeans was equally remarkable. Heero never shied away from the tighter fit – might have been a Japanese fashion thing – he didn't do the loose jeans, shapelessly hanging off his ass, like most guys our age did. His jeans were perfectly fitted, all the way down the legs.

I shook my head. I shouldn't be seeing those things, I berated myself. I shouldn't be noticing those things!

The kitchen started to fill with the mouth-watering smell of a proper breakfast. Normally I didn't have breakfast. On days when I had classes I'd take a cup of coffee to go. On my days off I didn't haul my ass out of bed in time for the first meal of the day to qualify as breakfast and it was usually cold pizza or any other left-over that I could steal from the shared refrigerator. On days following a party I would even wash it down with a stale beer, so the glass of orange juice Heero put in front of me was a nice change.

"Thank you, dear."

"Would you like the newspaper with that, darling?" Heero played along.

"Only the financial section, pumpkin." I took a sip from my orange juice. "Oh man," I groaned.

"What? Has it gone bad?"

"No… just tastes weird when it's not mixed with alcohol."

Heero laughed, even though he usually didn't find my drinking habits as a stereotypical student amusing.

"So, what are your plans for today?"

"Study, of course." He retrieved two plates from the dishwasher.

"Of course." I took another sip. With a devilish thought I got up from my seat and approached him. Standing behind him, not close enough to touch, but closer than one would stand behind a friend, I whispered: "Do you want me to come over during lunch time and suck your dick?" I wanted so much to put my hands on his hips, press my body against his and bury my nose into the hair at the nape of his neck, or maybe suckle on his earlobe… but I couldn't. And I hated that. And I hated that I hated that. It was just so confusing. Obviously I was attracted to him, but what did that mean? Did feeling attracted to one guy really make someone bisexual? Couldn't it just be my libido playing tricks on me?

"Duo!" He turned around in the narrow space between me and the front of the stove. He pushed me away with an incredulous look. "What if someone walks in? What if someone had heard?"

I snorted. "Heero, only a handful or guys are still here and they're all asleep like a college student should be at this hour."

"You're unbelievable!"

"Thank you," I said with a smirk.

"No. No, not 'thank you'. We agreed to be careful about keeping this a secret."

"Yes, we're on the down-low, I get it, but Heero, no one is here, we're alone. When are you going to stop freaking out at the slightest thing?" I was a little more than peeved at the arm length he was keeping me at. Being confronted with his inhibitions regarding the situations certainly didn't help me feel any better about my personal confusion.

"Oh, real nice. Just step back, okay, you're going to make me ruin the damn omelets." He turned back to the stove and reached out, but suddenly he flinched and jumped back, crashing into me, holding one arm to his chest with the other. "Shit!"

I made sure to restore the appropriate distance between us before he could blame me for the closeness and bite my head off for it and then allowed myself to fret over him like a mother hen. "What did you do? Did you burn yourself?"

"Obviously!" He snapped.

"Thank you, Super Sarcasmo. Is it your hand?"

"My arm. I turned around and the pan was a little closer than I thought. It's all your fault," He accused with a pout.

"Let me see it," I demanded and I grabbed his wrist and pulled his injured arm out. There was a curved line of red, swollen and blotchy skin on his forearm a few inches away from the elbow. "Come here," I pulled him towards the sink and turned on the faucet. I made sure the water was cool but not extremely cold before I put his arm under the stream. "Hold it there, I'm going to get a big bowl or this is going cost a fortune worth of water." I retrieved a punch bowl from a cupboard and even though it was clean I rinsed it just to be sure and then let it fill up. I put it on the counter and instructed Heero to soak his arm in it for about fifteen minutes. "Does it hurt?"

"Yeah, it hurts," He gritted through his teeth.

I nodded. "It looks like a second degree burn."

He frowned at me. "How would you know?"

"Oh please, I grew up an angry kid with daddy issues. I got myself into so much trouble my parents ended up recruiting nannies from pre-med schools." I opened my palm and held it out to him, showing the faded scar of a burn. "Grabbed my mom's curling iron in a last ditch attempt to get her attention." Actually, I learned most from WuFei, who was on his way to becoming a doctor last time I saw him, but I didn't want to mention him. Heero would use it as an opportunity to start up another debate on why I should reach out to WuFei.

I left briefly to get the first-aid kit that was stored in a cabinet by the front door along with the fire extinguisher and fire-blanket. "Is it starting to get better?" I asked upon re-entry.

"Yeah." Heero tilted his head to appraise the submerged burn.

I noticed a burnt smell and only then realized our breakfast was in the process of being ruined. But I didn't care. I turned off the stove before the whole place would stink up with the smoky scent and then unpacked the first-aid kit on the counter. "The skin looks broken so I'm going to bandage it."

"Please tell me I won't have to go to the hospital. I really don't need to see my dad more often than absolutely necessary."

I shook my head. "Don't worry, it doesn't look too bad. No doctors required."

He was visibly relieved. He didn't have any insurance so any visit to the doctor or to the hospital would result in a bill that would have him knocking on his dad's door for payment. His father would probably love it, he loved having that kind of power over Heero, he made damn sure Heero would, in no way, be financially independent as long as he was here.

We waited quietly for the fifteen minutes to pass and for the pain to fade. When sufficient time had passed and Heero indicated that it didn't hurt that much anymore I had him take his arm out of the water and carefully dabbed the skin dry with a paper towel before loosely wrapping it with clean bandages. I used my teeth to tear off small pieces of medical tape and secured the bandages. To fill the silence I explained to him that we would regularly have to change the bandage to avoid infection. Even though he was hurt, which made me feel awful, I did like being allowed to take care of him. I hoped he knew I would always take care of him, for as long as he would let me.

I playfully kissed his palm before letting go of his arm, enjoying the shy look on his face. "Everyone knows a kiss is standard procedure in treating a booboo."

He made an uncomfortable face at my choice of words but thanked me anyway.

"Sure."

He looked back at the stove. "Sorry about breakfast."

"No worries." I took a step back and ripped open the refrigerator door. I pulled out the pizza I had ordered the previous night and presented it to him with a grin. "Hope you like salami."

"Oh God," He pinched his nose. "Why treat my burn only to kill me with left-overs?"

"Fine, fine. Sit down, I'll fix you a bowl of cereal." I put the pizza away and grabbed two bowls. I gave him a look when he moved to help. "What? I think I can manage cereal."

He scowled, but without argument he walked to the small kitchen table and sat down.

I gathered the carton of milk and the box of cereal in my arms and walked the items over to the table. I shook a generous amount of cereal into both bowls and then poured the milk. I sat down but caught him staring at me. In a fluid motion I was up on my feet again. "Spoons, right. Spoons." I dropped one in each bowl. "There you go, milord."

The kitchen filled with crunching sounds as we chewed, until the milk turned the cereal soggy that is.

"We aren't still fighting, are we?" I worried.

"No."

I smiled at his curt but honest answer. "Good. Because I still intend to give you a treat for lunch." I winked at him.

He rolled his eyes dramatically but I could tell he was fighting a smile.

After cleaning up the kitchen Heero went to the library to study and I killed time doing my laundry and cleaning up some of my mess in our shared room. I responded to a text from a colleague at the campus-bar begging me to cover his shift that night with a simple "okay". I was actually grateful, it was good to keep myself occupied – otherwise my thoughts would wander into dangerous, uncharted territory – and people were always very generous with their tips in the final week of the year. So many parties were organized that no one ever got the opportunity to fully sober up and drunk college guys were likely to carelessly throw a fifty dollar bill your way for a twenty dollar tab and say: keep the change.

I attempted to get a head start on a project due the end of January, but the material on Art Nouveau accents in modern architecture we were supposed to study in preparation was even more dull than I had initially feared. Soon I was skimming through the questionably thick book, looking only at the pictures and accompanying captions. Every time I flipped a page I looked down at my watch. Heero and I had agreed on a late lunch, because breakfast got delayed. I was excited about it, which I recognized to be pathetic and disconcerting. I didn't ever feel giddy like that planning to meet one of my former girlfriends. I would be happy to see them and we would end up having a nice time, with or without sexual interaction, but I never experienced that impatient, jittery feeling beforehand. In hindsight I did always look forward to meeting up with Heero, long before I ever conceived our odd arrangement, but my anticipation had become different and I couldn't sensibly deny that that had something to do with the prospect of sexual stimulation.

What that meant? Who knew? I certainly didn't. I remained reluctant to believe that a single out-of-control bromance would be reason enough to revisit labels like straight, bi, or even gay. But hot on the heels of that was the Devil's Advocate on my shoulder pointing out to me that a man who enjoyed sucking another's dick and was having dreams about having sex with that other man couldn't still fit in the 'straight'-box. There wasn't enough room in the 'straight'-box to accommodate such male-on-male desires. But what about the 'bisexual'-box? That didn't feel like a good fit either, it was a bit too roomy for me, wasn't it? Considering that my same sex fantasies were limited to one person of the same gender, it seemed rash to derive a new sexual identity from one 'incident'. Was there a box in between 'Straight' and 'Bisexual'? Maybe the 'Temporary insanity'-box? Or the 'Abandonment issues'-box? Some throwback Freudian shrink could probably convincingly argue that it was an identity crisis in the face of my best friend soon moving back across the Pacific and me wanting to sleep with him was nothing but a perverted manifestation of my need to keep him close to me.

I shook my head and slammed the book shut. Heero was right – again – I grumbled inwardly. I had to stop taking those random electives.

Over half an hour before I was supposed to meet Heero at the library I hoisted myself out of my seat, fished my wallet out of my shoulder bag and stuffed it deep into the pocket of my cargo pants and headed out.

As I locked the door behind me a figure of odd colors approached me. I turned and gaped. "Do I even want to know why you are dressed as an elf?"

Nash grinned at me, looking down at his disheveled but detailed costume of green and red fabric and silver bells. "This guy I know from Economics does the elf-gig every year and he said they needed an extra merry-fairy."

I blinked. "I'm sorry, I heard nothing of what you just said. I was overwhelmed by the realization that your hair is green and has glitters in it."

Unfazed he continued: "Anyway, we did this Santa-and-his-merry-elves thing on Christmas eve at the mall and then all the elves went to this kick ass party. It was awesome." He grinned.

"Christmas was two days ago."

"I told you, it was an awesome party."

"That lasted two days?"

"What? No. It went on until midnight the next day. I was just released from the hospital; dehydration and a concussion. Someone hit me over the head with a beer bottle." He laughed. "I don't remember a thing after that!"

I gave him a disproving look. "I'm sure you deserved it."

He giggled – I swear to God he did – and then stumbled along to his room.

I shook my head at him and then left. Outside I noticed the soft snow floating down from the sky, blanketing the ground with a sheer veil. I pushed my rolled-up sleeves back down to my wrists and jogged across campus to make a quick stop for coffee and sandwiches. Sometimes I envied Nash. He could do the craziest things and get himself hospitalized and never think anything of it. I used to think I was like that, but obviously I had to face the reality that I wasn't quite so carefree.

On my way in I bribed the front desk clerk with her favorite sandwich and stalked to the back. The library was eerily quiet. Normally the space would be filled with muffled coughs and the rustle of dozens of people seemingly turning a page in unison, like it was choreographed. All seats were empty with the exception of one. A large section of the study tables was actually roped off and it looked like they were in the process of varnishing the surfaces of the tables. They had made quick work removing the Christmas decorations, instead they framed the overhead clock with colorful ribbons and obnoxious holographic letters that spelled out: 3. 2. 1. Happy New Year! Actually, there were three exclamation marks, probably just because they had them lying around anyway, or to purposefully annoy the English lit. majors.

I quietly made my way down the dark hall in the back, stopping at the last door. I spied through the window to the left of the door and took a moment to observe Heero. The entire surface of the study table, that could seat ten, was covered by open books, schematics and scattered pages of notes. Heero was leaning over the collection, his gaze intense and searching. How he could make sense of the mess was beyond me.

He was entirely too focused on his work to register me spying on him but I promptly stepped inside to avoid any risk of being caught gawking. "Yo."

"'Sup."

"What's all this?"

"Extra credits." He frowned. "Or, it will be, anyway."

I scoffed. "Like you need extra credits."

"I do if I want to graduate Valedictorian."

Graduation, I didn't like thinking about that moment, let alone talking about it. I wasn't nervous about getting my degree, I had the grades to finish in the top five percent of my class and Heero was a shoe-in for Valedictorian for that matter. But graduation marked the end of our shared life as students, even as friends. Heero had always made it very clear that he would waste no time getting back to Japan, back to his grandmother and away from his dad, as soon as the graduation ceremony had completed. So to change the subject I asked: "How's your arm?"

He looked down at the bandages like he had completely forgotten about the injury. "It's fine."

I smirked. "I think it's the kiss that did it." I expected him to sputter objections but instead he remarked absent-mindedly:

"Who knows."

I swallowed the lump that suddenly formed in my throat as my mind swarmed with memories of dreams; I saw myself kissing him all over. It got increasingly more cramped and claustrophobic in the 'straight'-box. I didn't fit! I didn't fit! But metaphorically speaking I stubbornly stuffed myself back in there, not caring how much the sides of the box were bulging and I offered him his lunch. "Good ol' fashioned meatball subs."

The low, appreciative sound he made in the back of his throat had me swearing I could actually hear the box tearing.

Unaware of my inner turmoil he took a seat and casually propped his feet up on the table.

I sat down at the far end of the table and thoughtfully chewed.

"You're quiet," He stated halfway through his meal.

I shrugged. "Just thinking about stuff."

He quirked an eyebrow. "Stuff?"

Kissing you. "Art Nouveau," I lied.

He let out a deep chuckle. "So you finally got started on that project."

"Finally? It isn't due for another month. You know I work best under the forty-eight-hours-until-the-deadline pressure."

He frowned and innocently inquired: "Then why were you thinking about it?"

I couldn't answer that and Heero caught on that I had been lying to hide an embarrassing truth, so he didn't pry. I thought he might have suspected that I had been thinking about him, or at least our arrangement and that he didn't ask further because he did not wish to know. Of the two of us he was the one determined to keep 'the exchanges' as superficial as possible. He must have worried that there was something hidden underneath the surface, a deeper meaning to what we were doing, but he wasn't about to pick up a shovel and start digging. He would leave it buried, buried deep and I didn't think I could dig it up by myself, so it would suffocate under the dirt. It was for the best, I knew that. I didn't want to start drama, I didn't want to re-evaluate my entire life, including but not limited to our friendship, but it felt like I couldn't breathe, under the dirt, or in the restricting box – or whatever metaphor a more creative mind could invent.

We finished our meals in quiet thought and then I proceeded to bug him a little, to convince both him and myself that nothing was different, and then left him alone at his urging. I never gave him the 'treat' I mentioned earlier, but suddenly I wasn't in the mood anymore and he didn't bring it up, so I didn't either.

Heero came back to the dorm room a few minutes before I had to leave for work, exactly enough time to change his bandages, just to be sure. I used up the last of the small roll that was in the emergency first aid kit so I instructed Heero to get more when he would go out for groceries. On my way to work I grabbed a hotdog from the stand just outside the campus walls and consumed it in about three large bites, four tops. Work would be a good distraction. It was such a normal, mundane thing for me, I hoped it would calm my mind, turn it back to its usual, relatively carefree setting. An introspective brood was not a good look for me.

"Obie!" I hollered upon entering the mostly empty on-campus bar. Senior students would be pouring in soon. Normally, alcohol was only served on the two night a week that were 'Senior-nights', for the 21-and-over crowd, but during the week of Christmas and New Year's Eve we served alcohol every night, to keep the student body nice and drunk.

"Duo?" He paused cleaning beer glasses to present me a confused look. "I thought I was manning the bar with Jason tonight."

"Tough luck. He asked me to fill in for him."

"What an idiot. He is going to miss out on a fortune of tips."

I nodded. "As I understood it there was some 'girl-friend' trouble."

Obie made a telling face. An 'isn't-there-always-face'.

I moved to help him clean the glasses and asked about the look. "Trouble in paradise?"

He shrugged. "Nah, I don't know. Maybe?"

I chuckled. "Okay…"

"It's just… you know everyone keeps saying that we married way too fast, way too young, right?"

I nodded and refrained from stating I agreed with those observations.

"Well, I thought that Jen and I weren't going to listen to that. It was going to be us against the world. But lately, every time we get into a fight, she starts in on this monologue that maybe her parents – and everyone and their grandmother – were right, that maybe we were too young and didn't know each other well enough. She has started to blame me for proposing too soon and that she felt like she couldn't have said 'no' because that would have hurt my feelings." He scoffed, like the mere notion was ridiculous, so I nodded along, not expressing that I was sympathetic to her point.

I had been there, I had watched them fall madly in love. She changed him, in a good way. Five months later, still securely locked in the head-over-heels-in-love position he proposed. She had said 'yes'. I thought them both crazy. I was all for impulsivity, but who would overhaul their life based on a single feeling: the flutters of butterflies in their stomachs? Butterflies have short life-expectancies.

"Anyway, it's just driving me up the wall," He said with a sigh. "Sorry to dump this on you."

"It's okay. Psychology was one of my electives last year," I grinned and hoped the joke would make him feel better.

"I don't think a four week course in the history of psychology makes you qualified."

"Then how about being your friend? Does that make me qualified?"

He smiled. "Yeah. Thanks."

"Sure," I brushed it off as nothing, as it really was nothing.

"No, I'm serious. I can't talk about this stuff with my other friends, you know? They just laugh at my expense and throw a football at my face and they're all like: 'Quick, do something manly before we start braiding each other's hair'."

I frowned. Being a man with a long braid I felt a little awkward, like my masculinity was being called into question. "So, what, I'm your less-manly friend?"

He blinked at me.

"Seriously!"

"No!" He raised his hands in surrender. "Look, I'm not implying that you're any less manly than the other guys. What I'm saying is… you have this thing going on with Heero-"

My face became hot and probably beet red.

"It seems like you guys can talk about anything. I figured since you're the kind of guy that is comfortable with stuff like that, I could talk to you."

"Oh…" I felt appropriately foolish. "Sorry."

"What going on? You always seemed pretty confident about your 'manliness'. Not even all those jokes about you and Heero being married made you defensive like this."

"Sorry, the holidays man, they have me on edge."

He eyed me suspiciously. He wasn't buying it, but he said: "Okay, no problem, it's cool."

I was relieved to have the subject dropped, this was supposed to be a night to distract me after all, not aim a magnifying glass at the exact issue that I wished to forget about. We worked in silence – though I could hear the wheels turning in his head - as he rinsed the glasses and I dried them off and lined them against the back of the bar, where they were within reach once the place would start filling up. I caught his glance as he tensely handed me the last of the glasses and I felt a knot form in my stomach, knowing the conversation was in for a humiliating reprise.

"Can I ask you something?"

"I don't think I'd be able to stop you," I quipped, "It's a free country after all."

"Is there… maybe… something special about your relationship with Heero?"

I snorted and casually replied: "He's my best friend."

He nodded pensively but he wasn't about to accept my blasé answer. "I know, but…. Well, Freddy is my best friend, I suppose. At least, I've known him the longest. But him and I, we aren't like you and Heero."

"What are you getting at?" I fidgeted with the Christmas lights draped across the bar.

"Look, there's a reason we joke and call you mister and misses Maxwell, you guys seem so… close,"

I frowned at the way he said 'close', recognizing it as the gross euphemism he meant it to be.

"I was just wondering if there is some accidental truth to our jokes."

I threw him an incredulous look. "Where did all this shit come from all of a sudden?"

"I've actually been wondering about this for quite a while! I know you're always dating girls, but they never seem to make you happy. And since the subject of masculinity came up I figured I might as well ask you."

"Really?" I retorted defiantly. I put my hand on my hips and faced him with a glare. "And what, exactly, are you asking me?"

He made a face. "You really want me to spell it out?" His tone was soft, he didn't want the few students in the back to hear us.

I chuckled bitterly. "Oh, Hell yeah. By all means, embarrass yourself by asking me what you want to ask me." I had started making big gestures with the rag in my hand.

"If you tell me you aren't gay, I'll believe you," He assured me with hushed voice.

"I'm telling you," I stated defensively. "I'm not gay." As I said the words out loud, I realized they were not true. They were not a flat-out lie, but they implied an untruth; they implied that the alternative, 'straight', was the case and it was not. I didn't know what it was about saying it out loud that enabled this epiphany regarding an issue that I had been circling in my mind for days, if not weeks, but there it was. My mouth said the words and it was like they registered in my brain for the first time and to my horror, my brain burst into laughter, because it was laughably preposterous for me to be what I was pretending to be – straight. I supposed hearing myself say it out loud evoked the kind of reaction in me that I would have had if someone else had said the words: I want to fuck my male friend, but I'm not gay. I would have laughed at their unmistakable denial.

"Okay, sorry," Said Obie, but I could barely hear him over the thundering rumble of my sexual identity collapsing into an unrecognizable pile of meaningless rubble.

The night was sufficiently awkward after that. Even as the initial shock wore off I was dumbfounded at the news that apparently one of my good friends had always suspected me to be gay. I didn't understand that in the least, it had never occurred to me to ask those questions about myself, why, on earth, would someone else think to ask them? And what cruel timing for him to voice his questions, right in the very moment when I was unsure about all the answers.

I did abruptly understand why he proposed to Jen after only a few months, why he was willing to dedicate his entire life to an unforeseen and possibly fleeting feeling. Because however sudden and transient, some realizations change you forever and there was no point resisting their effect. Even though my sexual attraction to Heero could very well fade overtime, it didn't make the impact on my person any less significant.

What rang in my ears the most as I absent-mindedly served costumers and kept the bar tidy, was the profoundly insightful observation Obie had made: the girls I dated never did make me happy. Maybe therein lay the clue that I should have deciphered long ago. I've kept myself so busy dating girls, looking for a love that I had always been denied, I never gave myself the opportunity to be with myself, on my own, and discover what 'love' meant to me exactly and who would be able to fit my interpretation of it. I never stopped and paused. I never asked the questions I should have asked myself, after failed relationship upon failed relationship.

Fuck, I thought and I derailed my threatening train of thought before even the 'bisexual-box' wouldn't be a fit for me anymore. I focused on giving the customers my best smile and my cheekiest remarks, to make them laugh and to make them generous.

At the end of a long night, while Obie and I mopped the floor and the last of the patrons waited for a friend to come pick him up – carry him home, more likely – Obie apologized to me, quietly but sincerely.

I couldn't hold a grudge. He may have hit the nail on the head and even though it was a hard thing to be beat over the head with, it was what I needed. I couldn't very well keep lingering in the twilight zone where the air was foggy with questions but quiet in the absence of answers. But I didn't tell him that, I accepted his apology and offered to close up so he could head home to Jen.

"Thanks." On his way out he halted and asked: "Is it okay if Jen and I come to your New Year's party?"

I shrugged. "Sure, but you might be the only ones there. The competition of other parties is stiff that night."

"But Heero will be there, right?" He blurted without filter.

"Yeah… Yeah, Heero will be there."

"Cool. I'll see you guys then." After a pause he felt the need to assure me: "I really do mean what I said. You say you're straight, I believe it."

I smiled with dead eyes. I didn't point out to him that I had never claimed to be straight, just argued his accusation of me being gay. I understood that most people were convinced there was nothing in between and I didn't feel like coming out of the bi-closet after only just realizing I was stuffed in there to begin with. Moreover I didn't think Heero would be appreciative of the attention such a public admission would inevitably evoke. "It's cool, don't worry about it."

He nodded, smiled, then left, holding the door open for the guy who had come to pick up his friend.

I helped the drunk fool up from his seat and threw his arm over his friend's shoulder for support and locked the door behind them. In four big steps I was behind the bar, my hands blindly grasping for a bottle from the mirrored wall and I poured myself a strong drink.

I guessed what hit me the hardest was shame; embarrassed at being a blind fool all my life. I felt like an idiot, a stubborn idiot who had been lost in his search for love but was too damn caught up in the desperation of his loveless life that he never even stopped to ask for directions, he just kept going down the wrong road. The acknowledgement that I was at least a bit bisexual, didn't scare me in the sense that I feared the judgment of others. I knew not everyone would be understanding, or accepting, but I didn't care about that, in fact, I looked forward to breaking the news to my dad, knowing that it would devastate him. What scared me was the thought that I might have missed out on great loves, perhaps even the love of my life, because I was looking for it in a girl. I couldn't recall ever feeling attracted to a guy, but it must have happened and slipped my notice. Why would Heero be the first?

I didn't even realize how long I had been standing there, refilling my glass on occasion until there was a knock on the glass door.

Heero was standing outside, holding his coat closed and wrapped around him tightly with his arms. The snowflakes that were falling were thick and Heero's footsteps had left a trail in the blanket of snow.

I hurried around the bar and through the front door. A gust of cold air whipped my bangs around my face as I quickly let him in. "What are you doing here?"

"The bar closed at two AM, I was wondering what was keeping you."

The most feasible excuse was: "I sent Obie home, I offered to clean up by myself, it's just taking a little longer than I anticipated."

"Oh. Can I help?" He shook his coat off his shoulders and looked around.

"Uhm…" Aside from putting the final chair where the drunk guy had been sitting upside down on the table, I was done. "Actually, I'm almost done."

"You were having a drink," Heero noted, pointedly looking at the shot glass and the bottle of tequila on the bar.

"Yeah," I admitted sheepishly. "Want one?"

Heero gave me a look.

"Glass of water then?"

He joined me behind the bar and watched me fix him his simple drink. I poured myself another shot.

"Trowa wants to come to your party," He started after the first sip.

"Really?"

"He's bringing his boyfriend."

I swallowed. "Cool. Then at least there will be six of us."

"Six?"

"Obie and Jen are coming."

He wrinkled his nose. "Hn, but of all your friends I suppose I dislike Owen the least."

"It'll be fine. The five of us will get drunk and you sit on your high horse and roll your eyes at us."

Heero frowned. "Trowa doesn't drink either, nor does his boyfriend."

"Oh joy. Where will I find two additional high horses on short notice?" I jested.

"You don't really mean that, right?" He asked uncomfortably, "I'm not really that obnoxious when you drink?"

"No," I lied. He did have the tendency to act superior and judgmental when I'd spent an evening getting drunk, but I had the feeling me rubbing his nose in that would make him feel guilty and I wasn't about to subject him to that. Besides, he was probably right to get pissed at me when I'd get drunk, he was usually the one to have to drag me home. Unsubtly changing the subject I asked about this arm.

"It's fine," He shrugged it off. Then, with a mischievous glint in his eyes, he added: "The kiss is wearing off though."

I bit back a groan. Oh how much I wanted to plant a kiss on his lips, but I knew that wasn't what he was asking. "Yeah?" I took a step forward and backed him up against the bar. "Where does it hurt now?" I breathed lustfully.

He surprised me by grabbing my hips and pulling my pelvis against his. "Here," He whispered in return. "You said you would suck me during lunch, but you never did."

My mind was reeling, it didn't often happen that he was so forward and it was the first time we actually ground our hips together like that. It was instantly apparent to me that I loved the sensation of our lower bodies pressed together. Encouraged by his uncharacteristic directness I made slight thrusts against him and my whole body felt hot, but nowhere more so than between my legs, when I could feel us both getting hard. I boldly licked the shell of his ear, then kissed his neck feverishly, fully aware that his inhibitions could hit him at any time and he could push me away. I slipped my hand between us and fondled him through his jeans. The soft sounds he emitted drew a smile to my lips.

"I'll kiss it better," I whispered hotly in his ear and then lowered myself down on my knees in front of him.

"Here?" He thought to ask with slight concern.

"Don't worry, if anyone does walk by the windows, I'm hidden behind the bar." In the meantime I was busy unceremoniously undoing his pants. After that night's epiphany, I was eager for it. For some reason I experienced a peace and calm that already allowed me to enjoy it more. When I pulled his dick free from his boxer-briefs I placed a soft kiss on the tip of it and I chuckled deeply at his gasp.

The first low moan escaped him when I took the head of his arousal into my mouth and sucked on it lightly, whilst cupping his balls in my right hand and letting my left hand slide up his body, underneath his shirt. I plucked a nipple and simultaneously took as much of him into his mouth as I could. The high-pitched, surprised cry, followed immediately by a deep, appreciative groan made my cock dance in my pants. Hearing him unabashedly express his pleasure made me think of that night I had found him in his lower bunk masturbating with my Christmas present up his ass. My mouth vibrated as I moaned - which he echoed - thinking of how close we had gotten to sex that night. I wanted it. I wanted to be inside him. I wanted to see him react to my thick length stretching him, the way he moaned and gasped at having the vibrator caress his insides.

I lowered both my hands to undo my jeans so I could offer myself some much needed relief. I jerked myself off needily while I continue to bring him to the highest level of pleasure before teasingly pulling back and merely placing open mouthed kisses on his cock right as he was on the edge of orgasm, denying him the release he craved. He called me evil and twisted his fingers into the hair at the base of my braid but he never got forceful, not even when I brought him to the brink only to leave him hanging again, and again. He would deny it, but I could tell he was enjoying it.

My hands inched his tight jeans down the entire length of his legs. I released his dick long enough to suck on my index- and middle finger and I grinned at the quizzical look he gave me. The guy at the sex toy shop had put all kinds of ideas in my head as he was selling me the appropriate vibrator, talking, at length, about the pleasure and benefit of stretching your partner with your fingers beforehand. I knew we weren't about to have sex, Heero wasn't that desperately in need of orgasm, but he might have been driven close enough to insanity to allow my fingers inside him.

I took him back into my mouth to increase the odds of his compliance and then reached my hand between his legs, purposefully brushing along his scrotum.

His entire body tensed when my intentions became clear to him. "No, wait." He put both of his hands on my shoulders but he only made a weak attempt to push me back. If he really wanted me to stop, I trusted he would do more than make a halfhearted effort that made me doubt that he actually wanted me to stop. He shuddered when I pressed the tip of my finger against his opening. "Don't. It's nasty."

I pulled my head back to assure him with a smirk: "Don't worry. I only want to make this arrangement as beneficial to you as possible." I heavily licked the head of his cock, watching his face intently, as I pushed my index finger through the tight ring and slowly worked it all the way into him. It was incredibly tight and as he kept tightening around my finger my cock was bouncing up and down in my lap.

He moaned, but contradicted himself by saying: "Please, stop."

It took me a while to strike his prostate right, but once I got a hang of things he made no more objections, not even when I slipped in the second finger alongside the first. And soon I wasn't sure if he had started to move his hips to thrust deeper into my mouth or to push back against my fingers to get them deeper inside him. Whatever the case he was vocally enjoying the overall experience which spurred me on.

I varied the way I used my mouth on him; licking the entire length of his cock, raining kisses on it, or sucking on it. But I kept the motion of my two fingers steady, in a rhythm in which I imagined I would enjoy fucking him. With my thumb I stroked the area between his balls and where my fingers disappeared into him. And in an impressive display of multi-tasking, I managed to offer myself direct stimulation as well, in the same pace with which I was fucking him with my fingers.

When I had experimentally used my fingers on myself I wasn't really into it, it was just uncomfortable, painful even. Heero's reactions to the added stimulation was entirely different and it was fucking hot. I wondered what he was thinking about, looking up at his tightly shut eyes. Were it just my fingers in his fantasy as well, or was he thinking about the vibrator he had shamefully gotten rid of, or was he thinking about my dick? He did admit a few nights ago that he wanted me to fuck him.

With my own dick painfully hard and in desperate need of some undivided attention I sucked harder on Heero's cock and continuously teased his prostate with my fingers. His climax came soon, with a shrill cry, and it was powerful. I had to quickly bring up my free hand to hold his hips as he started bucking into my mouth. His muscles clamped down on my fingers so tightly that the thought of having my cock buried inside him during his orgasm made stars appear in front of my eyes.

Fuck, I love this, I thought to myself with a negligible red hue on my cheekbones. I carefully extracted my fingers and wiped them on my jeans as I sat back on my lower legs.

Heero slowly sagged down to the floor. He had a dark, desirable look in his eyes.

I reached out for one of his ankles and pulled his foot out of his jeans so I could spread his legs and sit between them. Heero just let me maneuver him as I pleased, caught up in post-orgasm bliss. One hand I rested against the cabinet door of the bar Heero was sitting back against, above his shoulder. The other I wrapped around my dick to shamelessly start masturbating in front of him. We were so close that I could feel his hot breath on my face and I could stare deeply into his hooded eyes. I moaned pathetically when he cast his gaze down to watch me pleasure myself. "Put your hands on me. Anywhere," I ordered, needing physical contact.

After a brief moment of hesitation he placed his hands on my thighs, stroking both his thumbs back and forth, causing me to shudder. It was such a simple touch but it felt amazing. He kept his eyes focused on my lap, staring – almost hungrily, I dared to think. When he sensually bit his lower lip, completely unaware of himself, I almost came. I moved my left hand from the cabinet to the back of his neck and I brought our faces closer together. I could feel the tension in his body and his thumbs stopped caressing me. I breathed a deep sigh, knowing that I couldn't do what I wanted to do so badly; kiss him. Instead I leaned my forehead against his, our bangs, damp with sweat, melting together.

I quickened my pace, eager for release. The closeness made the experience even better.

He looked up into my eyes and I came. I struggled to keep my eyes open to maintain our intimate eye-contact as I rode the high waves of my orgasm. My come landed on my hand, my lap and even on Heero's bare thighs. I let out a whimper. As mind-blowingly good as it was I regretted that I wasn't allowed to kiss his lips.

I pumped my fist up and down a few more times before I pulled myself away from him with effort, sitting back against the wall behind the bar. I looked down at myself. I was an absolute mess.

As admittedly satisfying as it had been, I immediately craved more. I looked at him, sitting across from me, with greedy eyes. I wanted to give him the pleasure of being stretched by a real cock. I wanted to know what it felt like to be deep inside him when he climaxed. I wanted to be the first man to leave his mark within him. No, the only man, I corrected myself possessively.

As if he read my mind, he asserted: "We are never going to have sex."

I smiled and nodded. There was uncertainty in his voice, he was unconvinced of his own statement. He wanted it, perhaps as much as I wanted it. Even a focused, disciplined guy like Heero couldn't ignore his desires forever. I would wait for him to come to the conclusion that there was no denying the sexual attraction between us and for him to be willing to fully give into that.

We got cleaned up and dressed. I washed my hands and watched him pull up his jeans and adjust his disheveled shirt. When he looked my way I grinned at him, he quickly looked away, with a blush.

We walked back to our dorm building with our hands stuffed into our pockets and our mouths shut. I wasn't worried about the awkwardness, I knew every trace of it would be gone come dawn, he just had to sleep it off. As we got dressed in our nightwear, with our backs turned to each other – though I could see his backside in the reflection of the closet door mirror I was facing – I relayed Nash's story from before. He laughed when I told him the now-green-haired student got hit over the head with a bottle of beer and he remarked:

"I'm sure he deserved it."

I paused midway through putting on my night shirt and stared at the reflection of the back of his head with a stupid smile. "That's exactly what I said."

He cast me a look over his bare shoulder.

"We really have been hanging around each other for too long, mind-melting and all," I observed jokingly.

"I think it means we've been hanging around with Nash for too long. We know him better than I want to." He dropped down into his bed with a deep sigh.

I re-braided my hair, stealing looks at him as he stretched out on his bed like a lazy cat, closing his eyes and moaning softly as he did. My eyes were drawn to his exposed lower abdomen as his shirt hiked up. When I was done with my hair I had no valid excuse to keep standing there, with my head cocked to the side, so I threw the rope back over my shoulder and climbed up into the top bunk, hitting the light switch before settling down.

As expected neither of us made a big deal of what had happened in the bar. I brought him lunch the next day as he worked in the study room in the library and gave him a regular blowjob – getting one for myself in return – and it was fine. And afterwards we bantered back in forth while I changed his bandages, which I insisted on. He didn't think he had to keep it wrapped up, but I didn't want to take any chances. I was quite protective, even more so than I had always been.

On the last day of the year I headed out late in the afternoon to do some shopping in preparation for the New Year's 'extravanganza' that would involve as many as six people. Heero would meet me at the mansion later in the day – when he felt he had officially logged enough study-hours for the year – and he would help me hang up some decorations that I felt were necessary, even for a party so lame.

I went to a cheap store several blocks away from the parental home, knowing the products would be cheaper there than at the stores nearer to the house. I got a crate of beer, a bottle of cheap champagne and after hovering in the wine aisle I figured I might as well sneak into my dad's wine cellar and grab a couple of bottles of overpriced French wine if need be. I loaded the cart with chips and nuts, predicting the evening to be sufficiently awkward and that we would probably all be eager to keep our mouths occupied so we wouldn't have to say too much to each other. I dreaded that we would end up sitting stiffly next to each other in the TV room pretending to watch whatever outdated movie happened to be on for those pathetic enough not to have something better to do with the last few hours of the year than watch TV.

Gambling that I had what I needed – I honestly didn't know what to expect – I headed for the check-out counter. When I passed through the personal hygiene aisle I halted. I eyed the extensive selection of condoms. Heero and I wouldn't need those, since we got tested before we headed down this path and part of the agreement was for it to be exclusive, so we hadn't exposed ourselves to anything in the meantime. But my gaze drifted to the row of different bottles and tubes of lubrication on a different shelf. We would need that, I thought to myself and briefly indulged in naughty thoughts which, once I was done with them, had me inching closer towards the products. I should be prepared, I concluded decisively. I acknowledged it would likely take Heero a while to catch up with me and be in the same place I had been in for a while, but nevertheless I knew I should take precautions. I wouldn't want to end up in a situation where Heero was finally willing and I would have to get creative in the absence of proper lubrication. So I studied my options. After careful consideration I decided on a small, unpresumptuous bottle of lube from a brand that sounded familiar and was one of the more expensive ones on the shelf.

I was only slightly self-conscious when the cashier scanned the bottle along with the other products before announcing the total price. But not because I was bothered by what she could think of me, I was worried what would happen if Heero found about my purchase. He would likely be offended by my assertion and then be principally opposed to sex. I wasn't normally superstitious but it did also feel a little like I risked jinxing it by buying lube prematurely.

Pulling into the driveway of 'The Maxwell Mansion' never failed to be a surreal experience. The building, erected from grey lime-stones, had a solemn and morose appearance to it. Every tree and bush was groomed to perfection, not a single leaf out of place. I always felt like at any moment I would be asked to pay an admission fee; the place looked more like a museum than a house, especially inside. All the rooms looked mostly the same; a lot of rich, carved woods, crystal chandeliers and patterned fabric on couches and chairs that, to me, always seemed to clash with the area rugs. The only thing that distinguished one room from another were the different art-movements portrayed by the many paintings and sculptures that cluttered every inch of the place, and few of those styles actually matched the classic interior of the house. Futurism in the foyer, Rococo in the dining room – with a misplaced statue from the Baroque era -, Minimalism in the kitchen, Bauhaus in the study, Cubism in the master bathroom…

I chilled the beer and champagne in the refrigerated pantry and left the snacks on the cooking island. The lube I stuffed into the pocket of my jeans, I didn't trust to leave it around the house, not even in my own bedroom.

I cheered up when the doorbell chimed and I hurried to let Heero in.

"I'm starving!" He said upon entry but then stopped dead in his tracks and looked around with a funny expression. It was his first visit to the mansion.

"I take it you like it," I remarked sarcastically and helped him out of his coat while he was still dumbstruck.

"It's like your parents are singlehandedly responsible for worldwide deforestation," He deadpanned, eyes darting from the hardwood floors, to the carved wooden paneling, to the double mahogany staircase and to the assortment of obsolete end-tables, oddly placed to fill the vast space.

"I'll add that to the list. I blame them for cancer and earthquakes as well."

He rolled his eyes. "I guess it was nice of them to let us use the house."

"They don't even know."

"Aren't you going to get into trouble?"

"Let me rephrase: They will never know." I guided him to the kitchen, remembering that he was hungry. "Do you want me to order pizza?"

"No, I don't want to be a bother."

Rather than arguing with him that it wasn't a bother to get a pizza delivered I told him to raid the cupboards for whatever he wanted. I expected him to end up with fruit, or a dry cracker, but instead when he found a box of Belgian chocolates he asked if he could open it.

"Sure," I said with a shrug and took a chocolate when he held the opened box out to me.

"Hmmm, these are good," He appreciated with his mouth full, setting the box down on the counter.

I made a face. "Which one? The square ones are awful, trust me."

"These, the round ones."

We tested all the different kinds and finished the ones we liked. Twice I ended up spitting a rum-flavored chocolate into the trashcan.

"When are the others coming?"

"Dunno. I didn't exactly send out formal invitations. Probably not for a while though."

To kill time I showed him my room, a little embarrassed at the ridiculous wealth in which I grew up and then we played a videogame, racing our two-dimensional cars around quite competitively, snacking on a bag of chips in the meantime. By the time I thought to look down at my cheap watch I noticed it was already ten o'clock.

"Shit!" I exclaimed and paused the game.

"I was winning!"

"I think we're being stood-up. It's ten already."

Heero sat back against the side of my queen-sized bed, the controller in his limp hands. "Oh." He didn't sound particularly disappointed.

I smiled. I wasn't disappointed either. I'd much rather spend the night playing videogames with my best friends than entertaining a mismatched group of guests. I scooted back to lean against the bed also, leaving my controller on the carpet. I purposefully sat close enough to him for our shoulders to be touching. My heart started pounding. I knew exactly what I wanted to dedicate the remaining time of the year to.

Heero looked me in my eyes, his gaze more vulnerable and questioning than I was used to.

I gasped when I suddenly felt him place his hand on the top of my thigh. I hadn't expected him to make the first move, he never did. The gasp turned into a content sigh when he slid his hand to the inside of my thigh and then ran it up my leg, stopping just short of where I had hoped he would go.

The TV screen kept flashing bright letters that read 'CONTINUE?', but I was no longer interested in the game. Not in the racing-game at least.

Even though Heero wasn't touching me where my young body desired, I felt myself getting hard, watching his face, watching him lick his lips, while feeling the warmth of his hand on my leg. He had such a strong effect on me, something I hadn't experienced with any of my many girlfriends. I wondered if he was aware of that, of what a single touch of his did to me. I hoped I was secretly able to achieve the same effect on him, though accepting that he would probably never be comfortable letting that show.

I copied him, moving my hand to his lap, but I grabbed his thigh a little more firmly and massaged the strong muscle. I decided I wasn't going to do anything more if he wasn't. I liked the idea of him taking the lead for once. It always seemed like Heero was just along for the ride. I wanted him to initiate it, I wanted him to wordlessly confirm to me that he wanted it.

He flexed his fingers in preparation and then finally, mercifully, moved them to cover the front of my jeans, his hand laying lightly over the bulge.

I was about to follow his lead when the familiar but unwanted chime of the doorbell echoed through the house. I groaned loudly in frustration. "Fuck this!" I yelled. My heart dropped a little when Heero yanked his hand away and moved his leg to free it from my grip.

"We could just ignore it," I proposed, but Heero was already getting to his feet.

"No, we can't. You invited them."

"Fine," I grumbled. I headed downstairs with angry footfalls, a quiet, thoughtful Heero in my wake. I threw him one last look over my shoulder before ripping the front door open. "What the…?"

"Duo!" Greeted an already drunk Obie, his big, muscular arm draped across his petit wife's shoulders. Behind him was a group of ten to fifteen people I didn't immediately recognize, cheering excitedly. "Sorry we're late," He started to explain, "We recruited some more guests for your party!"

"Butbutbut-" I stammered as the still unfamiliar people started pouring in. Heero looked horrified.

"Don't worry about it, we came prepared!" As if on cue a guy walked past Obie, into the foyer, rolling in a keg of beer, followed by a guy with stacks of red plastic cups under his arms.

Someone found the stereo and all of a sudden the vast house filled with loud techno music.

Obie flashed me a grin and followed the crowd into the kitchen where they had already started tapping beer.

I shot Heero an accusing look. "You told me to answer the door."

Heero was wide-eyed but silent.

Within half an hour dozens more people came to the house, bringing food, booze and someone even rolled in a karaoke machine, and soon enough every accessible room on the ground floor was packed with bodies, jumping up and down to indiscriminate music. I hurried around the house re-locating some of the more precariously placed pieces of art. I realized it was an insurance-issue waiting to happen, but I did what I could to salvage the invaluable – albeit ugly – sculptures balanced on every given surface that were slowly filling up with empty red cups. As soon as I had cleared the three crystal vases off the dining room table a championship of beer-pong was declared. With the delicate vases cradled in my arms I scampered around looking for a safe place to put them. Passing through the hallway I nearly ran into the latest guests, coming in through the still wide open front door.

"Woa, be careful with those," Said Quatre, Trowa's boyfriend, as he narrowly avoided me trampling him.

"Yeah…"

"Sorry we're late," Continued the short blond. "We got guilted into dinner at my parent's house."

Trowa remarked after quiet observation of the chaos: "This isn't exactly what I had expected. I thought it was just going to be a small group."

"Yeah, me too!"

"Where's Heero?" Asked the imposingly tall young man.

"I don't know. Hiding in a closet somewhere?" Ouch, I hadn't meant for that double entendre. "He doesn't like this."

"You don't look like you're having a good time either."

"I wasn't prepared for this. And if anything breaks I'm afraid my father will be collecting payments for the rest of my life," I explained sheepishly. "Go get yourself a drink in the kitchen, I'm going to find a safe place for these." I ended up putting them in one of the cabinets in my father's study. Once everything was secured I felt more at ease and I got myself a drink and started mingling, figuring I had no choice but to make the best of the situation. Later I spotted Heero from across the living room. He was standing in a corner, talking to Trowa and Quatre, but I didn't dare to head over there as in between us the karaoke machine had been installed and an obnoxious girl was pushing the microphone on unsuspecting bystanders. Soon people would be drunk enough to volunteer, then the coast would be clear.

It was nearly midnight, so I searched for Heero. He was no longer in the corner of the living room when I came back to it. Someone was slurring the lyrics to "I will survive", making most people laugh, but it probably just chased my friend away. Going from room to room I started to get worried. There were only a few minutes left until midnight and I really wanted to start the new year at Heero's side. Being pretty sure that he wasn't on the ground floor I headed upstairs and walked in on many couples in the several guest rooms, including Trowa and Quatre, sensually making out in the laundry room,. They were engrossed in each other that they didn't even notice me opening the door, going "oops" and closing the door again. Standing in the hallway I had to take a moment. Seeing them like that – Trowa's hands on Quatre's behind and Quatre leaning into his boyfriend's tall frame, with their lips locked and their tongues battling – made it easy for me to envision Heero and I in that compromising position and it sent a shudder down my spine. More than anything I still longed to be able to kiss him on his lips, he had such beautiful lips, I had noticed.

I shook my head and continued my search. Finally I found my target, with only a minute or two to spare. He was in the family bathroom, sitting on the edge of the bathtub, cradling a red cup in his hands.

I closed the door behind me and took a seat next to him. "I thought you didn't drink."

He shrugged. "A couple of beers aren't going to kill me." He was tense. His voice sounded angry.

"I wasn't judging you, I was just wondering." I felt another shudder, but it wasn't a pleasant one. He was being so cold and stand-offish. I wasn't sure if he had had too much to drink and he wasn't handling it well or if I had done something to upset him. Surely he understood that the party madness downstairs wasn't my fault.

A brief moment passed in silence. Heero was clearly struggling with something but I didn't know how to get him to share. Then I could hear the countdown being bellowed by the crowd downstairs.

"Ten!... Nine!... Eight!..."

"So I guess I'm not allowed to kiss you at midnight either?" I joked, hoping to ease away the unidentified tension between us.

"Seven!... Six!... Five!..."

"No," He replied curtly, not amused.

"Four!... Three!..."

I nodded, casting my gaze down. I was biting my lower lip. I was disappointed, so much so that it hurt.

"Two!... One!... Happy New Year!"

We didn't say anything. I was quickly losing myself to depressive thoughts. I thought the change from one year to another would provide me the regular, inexplicable glee that I usually experienced, but the countdown just reminded me bitterly of the fact that I didn't have much time left with Heero, he would be leaving in the summer. The thought of that distance only got more difficult.

Heero cleared his throat, but instead of wishing me a good new year, he stated dryly: "But you can fuck me once the guests have left. If you still want to."

I snapped my head to look at him. Heero was looking down at the tiled floor, his shoulders stiff, his arms tense, the cup slightly trembling in his hands. I thought my eye might have been twitching and my head felt fuzzy, like I had had a stroke. "Are you serious?"

He shot me an indignant look. "Yes, of course. I'm not drunk, it's not like you'd be taking advantage of me."

"O-okay…" I drawled, thoroughly shocked. I had never expected him to come around to the idea so soon.

"So, do you want to or not?"

"Yes!" I hurriedly exclaimed before he would change his mind.

"Okay." He nodded and promptly got up. "I'll see you later then." He left me shell-shocked.

Unbelieving I stared into thin air. The unexpected nature of it momentarily overshadowed my eagerness and excitement. I slowly reached into my pocket and produced the small bottle of lube. I stared at it dumbly. "I'll be damned." Instead of a jinx it might have turned out to be a good-luck-charm.


	12. Chapter 12

**Thousand Words**

**_Twelve_ **

I circled the crowd glaring daggers at every single individual but in their collective drunken stupor they were unimpressed by the death glare that I was taught by the best. They blinked, looked away and continued to dance – jump to the monotonous beat that overpowered the music, lolling their head from side to side, hands seeking purchase on the nearest shoulder from time to time to steady their balance as they moved, lacking all coordination and focus.

Why won't they fucking leave? I seethed inwardly. A girl heavily bumped in to me. To keep herself from stumbling out of her eight inch heels she wrapped her arms around my neck, spilling stale beer down my back from her red cup. She smiled crookedly. "Happy New Year…"

I grabbed her shoulders and propped her upright. "Why won't you all just fucking leave?" I asked her.

She started laughing hysterically before being pulled back into the mass of moving bodies.

"Duo! Duo!"

I felt someone gently touch my elbow and turned around to face Trowa, with Quatre snugly tucked under his arm.

"We're going to go home," The tall man announced, leaning slightly forward to shout in my ear.

"Yes! Thank you!" I exclaimed. At their odd looks I brushed off my remark with a slur that included the words 'drunk' and 'tired'.

Trowa smiled. It caught me off guard a little, I had never really seen him smile like that. It was easy to forget that for most people this was an exceptionally joyous night. I, myself, was only feeling frustration and stress.

Then Quatre touched me to get my attention. I leaned down to hear what he had to say.

"The third keg of beer is almost empty, it won't be long until they leave."

I nodded. "Thanks." As I walked them to the front door, like the proper host my parents raised me to be, I made a mental note to tap beers and dump them into the sink until the keg was empty. Once the supply of beer would run dry, my guests would leave. "Thanks for coming," I shook both their hands, while taking in lungfuls of the delicious fresh air streaming in through the open doorway.

"We had a good time," Said the short blonde. "Happy New Year!" He waved and was then guided by the strong arm around his body to Trowa's car parked just outside the front gate.

"Happy New Year…" I mumbled, leaning against the doorframe with a sigh, watching them go.

The grandfather clock in the hallway chimed four times.

"Jesus fucking Christ…"

I hadn't seen Heero since the stroke of twelve. About two hours ago it dawned on me that he might be hiding from me. Rather than actively looking for him, I decided to give him some space. If he wanted to back out, I would understand, but I hoped that he wouldn't. I couldn't deny that I was alarmingly eager and excited. But at four o'clock in the morning I ran the risk that once I'd find him, he'd be passed out in a corner someplace.

I spent a couple of minutes shuttling cups of beer back and forth between the keg and the sink until the last few drops, then I found myself a relatively quiet place – my dad's home office – and waited for the party machine to catch on that it was out of fuel.

I stared nervously at the framed black and white photo of my grandfather on the mantelpiece; a statuesque man with a full, handlebar mustache. Focusing on his stern image was all I could do to keep myself from thinking of what might happen, once the guests would just – fucking – leave, and get a raging hard-on in the process.

Maybe I should jerk off, I thought to myself, quickly looking someplace else as suddenly it felt like my long dead grandfather was looking back at me. In this high state of excitation I probably wouldn't last very long. I didn't want to embarrass myself, moreover, for all I knew it could be a one-time thing, I had to make the best of it.

Hastily I unbuttoned my jeans while the party seemed unfazed beyond the solid oak door. My dick sprang to life at the slightest touch, like I had predicted, but as I fondled myself through the thin fabric of my briefs I experienced the uneasy feeling of being watched. My gaze shot back towards the bronze picture frame on display. Cornelius Maxwell scowled at me. I jerked my hands away. "Can't do it. Can't do it!" I shook my head and folded my arms across my chest, tucking my itching fingers underneath my armpits.

My arousal tented my black underwear, unaffected even under the immortalized judgmental stare of my ancestor.

"Fuck this." I got up and awkwardly shuffled to the fireplace with my pants around my knees, slamming the picture face down on the wooden surface before going back to my seat at the desk. With determination I slipped my right hand into my briefs and wrapped it around my erection, pulling it out and instantly starting to stroke it.

Thoughts of Heero came to me involuntarily, but I welcomed them as always. The vivid images of him as well as the ghosts of sensation of his tongue against my cock, or his in my mouth aided the process of seeking relief to an embarrassing extent. Before long I had my head thrown back, my mouth open to pant and breathily whisper his name. I imagined it was his hand touching me, not much of a challenge, but then I stretched my imagination to indulge in the illusion of him sucking me off. I could practically feel his unruly bangs ticking my lower abdomen with each downward stroke. The thought of finally finding out what it would feel like to fuck him sent me over the edge swiftly.

I took a number of deep breaths, continuing to hold my dick as it softened in my limp grip. I looked down at myself and chuckled breathlessly. In my enthusiasm I had neglected to catch my come, resulting in milky white stains on the black shirt I wore underneath my open, grey dress shirt.

I tucked my member back into my underwear but held off on buttoning up the tight jeans for a little while. I shook the button-up shirt off my shoulders and then stripped out of the filthy T-shirt. Just as the fabric landed on the floor the door was rudely pushed open and Obie practically fell into the study, barely able to grab hold of the doorpost to steady himself.

"Dude!" My face went red with irrational shame, it wasn't like any indecent body parts were uncovered or anything.

He blinked at me. All he could see was my naked upper body, my lower body was behind the massive desk. He probably assumed I was fully undressed. "You have a girl in here, bro?"

I quirked an eyebrow. "No."

He formed a twisted smirk. "A guy?"

"No! Fuck you!" I worked my arms back into the grey shirt and started buttoning it up.

"Relax. Relax. I just wanted to say that we're out of beer, but I know a guy who could get a new keg in here in like… twenty minutes."

"No!" I jumped up from the seat.

He stared at me quizzically. "No?"

"No," I reiterated firmly. "You are leaving, right now. Everyone is leaving. Right now." I stormed past him and stomped into the living room. The crowd had dwindled but the dedicated party-goers were still reluctant to leave, either in a reduced state of consciousness, sprawled on the floor, or still halfheartedly 'dancing' to the music that was as deafening as it had been all night. I promptly switched off the stereo and the silence was almost disturbingly alien.

"Everybody!" I barked, "Get the fuck out!" I helped people up from the floor and the couches and pulled a couple out of the kitchen pantry, both so inebriated that the girl asked me to close the clasp of her bra. "Out. Out. Out," I kept repeating as I ushered them to the door. "And please, don't drive. Walk or get a cab or something."

"Yes, mother," Jested Obie, who was trailing me, very nearly tripping over his own feet as he stepped outside. Jen was waiting for him on the driveway, barefoot, her high heels in her hands. She looked sober and pissed off.

I slapped his cheek and warned him: "Don't drive."

"Don't worry Duo," Called Jen and she rattled the car-keys in her hand to make her point.

I nodded my thanks and looked back at Obie, gripping his chin to make his rolling eyes focus on mine. I whispered to him: "If her face is any indication, your tiny little wife is going to murder you."

Obie grinned dumbly in response and finally stepped outside; the last of the guests to leave.

I heaved a great sigh and then closed the heavy front door, momentarily leaning my forehead against it. I embraced the silence. The ticking of the clock called my heart rate.

"Finally."

I jumped up. "Sweet mother Mary!" With a hand over my startled, racing heart, I slowly turned around and spotted Heero seated on the staircase, about halfway up, looking bored. "You scared the shit out of me."

"Apparently."

I leaned back against the door and tried to inconspicuously wipe my sweaty palms on my denim clad thighs. "You think they're all gone?"

"I think so. There was no one left upstairs. Although, your bedroom door is locked, so someone might be in there."

"I locked it." After I changed the sheets when I caught a couple coming out of my bedroom at about three o'clock. I produced the key from my pocket. My fingers grazed the small tube of lube that was tucked in there as well. I felt a pleasant tingle in my lower abdomen.

He narrowed his eyes as he scrutinized me. "You're dressed differently."

Boldly, I admitted: "I jerked off. Ruined my black shirt."

He didn't say anything. His face was unreadable. It was unnerving. Did he still want it? Did he still want me? Inwardly, I groaned. I wanted him so badly my body ached allover, particularly inside my chest. It was a scary, novel feeling, but I enjoyed it, even though I didn't fully understand it.

With a stone cold expression he asked: "Do you want to go upstairs?"

I nodded, a little more desperately than I liked to come off. And when I replied "Yeah", the word came out croaked.

He got up and walked up three or four steps before turning around and looking back at me.

I still stood frozen by the front door.

"Let's go then."

I nodded and followed him upstairs and down the long, dark hallway to the very end; to my bedroom door.

He waited in the narrow corridor by the door for me to unlock it. As I stood next to him my entire body felt nervous and it was a bit of a challenge to insert the key into the lock.

Once we were in my spacious bedroom I locked the door behind me, just in case someone was passed out in a closet somewhere in the house and would come looking for the host upon waking.

Just standing there I felt silly and awkward. I fumbled with my hands, not knowing what to do with them. "How is your arm?"

He looked down at the bandages and shrugged. "It's fine."

Silence settled between us once more.

Finally I scraped my throat and asked sheepishly: "Are you nervous?"

"It's just sex, Duo," He retorted dryly, although I could swear he wasn't as unaffected as he pretended to be. He locked his focused gaze on the queen sized bed and moved to sit on the edge. He seemed stiff and uncomfortable, yet determined to hide it.

In the back of my head I heard the echoes of his moans from the last time I sucked him off, when I had two of my fingers up his ass. I longed to draw those sounds from him again, as well as even more powerful, more guttural sounds. But I had to ask: "Are you sure you want to go through with this?" I risked swaying him at the last moment, but I had to make sure.

"I'm the one who suggested it," He reminded me.

"Heero-"

"I want it, okay!" He exclaimed, then he looked away, embarrassed. "Jesus, don't make me spell it out."

He really wanted it. My cock was steadily swelling. I was grateful for the long, dark shadows, cast by the only source of light; the bright moon beyond the tall windows. I walked over to the bed and sat down next to him, making sure we were close enough for our shoulders and legs to be touching. I leaned in, heavily breathing against his ear, breathing in his intoxicating scent, then I started kissing his ear, then his jaw, moving towards his mouth.

Heero gently pulled away. "The no-kissing-rule still applies," He whispered.

I groaned and buried my head in the crook of his neck as I swiftly dealt with the disappointment.

Accepting his terms, I strongly pushed him back onto the mattress and maneuvered my body to kneel on the carpet between his legs. With my eager hands I pushed up his shirt and drew feather light patterns on his abdomen while I nuzzled the growing bulge between his legs, drawing the first, reluctant moan from his lips. Wasting no time I undid his jeans and yanked them all the way down to his ankles, where they caught on his sneakers, pulling his underwear down with it. His arousal curved back against his stomach. I licked up the entire length, from the balls to the tip and then briefly dipped my tongue into his belly button, chuckling when I felt him tense.

I paid tender attention to his erection for as long as I could stand to leave it at that, then I crawled on top of him, straddling his torso and started to pop the buttons of his shirt.

"Wait," His hands stopped me.

I swallowed loudly, my dick was painfully swollen in the confines of my jeans, I didn't want him to make me stop.

"I think we should just undress ourselves."

Too worried about scaring him off, I didn't argue his logic. I climbed off him and stood by the bed, stripping myself of my clothes. All the while my gaze was distracted by the tempting sight of Heero ridding himself of his clothing unceremoniously, his exposed skin glowing in the moonlight, void of its normally sun-kissed hue but still utterly perfect, with the dusty shadows of rippling muscles and heaving ribcage underneath.

I dug the lube out of my pocket and threw it onto the bed before pushing my pants down and stepping out of them.

Once Heero was fully undressed he moved further up the bed so his legs weren't dangling over the edge anymore. He ran his hands through his hair and seemed to wait for me to take the lead, as he always did. I stared at him for a while, taken by the incredible sight of him. I tried not to think too much about the implications of that night, but I could not deny that I had never felt so absolutely giddy at the prospect of sex. Steeling my nerves, I climbed onto the bed and took my time figuring out how I wanted to proceed. I wanted to make the most of the opportunity. I decided to lay down on my side next to him, but with my feet in the opposite direction to his.

"What are you doing?" He wondered.

"Oh come on," I grinned at him. "This is one of the classic positions; sixty-nine." I grabbed his hip and rolled him onto his side, so he was facing me. His erection was right in front of me. I took the very tip of it into my mouth to suckle on it lightly. I moaned when I felt him wrap his hand around the base of my cock and I could feel his hot breath spread over my groin. I released him and watched, hoping he would place that hot mouth on my skin, but he seemed to change his mind at the last second and looked down at me with uncertainty evident in his eyes.

"Do it," I urged needily. "I won't do it if you won't." I flashed a grin.

He considered the terms shortly before promptly taking the head of my arousal into his mouth and working his lips down to his hand that was still firmly and hotly wrapped around the base.

"Oh, yeah…" I groaned and then eagerly returned the favor. It was difficult to focus on the task with his mouth vibrating around me as he moaned. It was more intimate than we had ever been and albeit satisfying I knew I wanted more. I wanted all of it. But I recognized that even if we would end up having sex, it might still not be all that I desired, because I was still not allowed to kiss him on his lips, in spite of how badly I wanted to. That gnawing knowledge left the overall experience void of something, but I couldn't quite name what it was, or why it was important to me.

Heero had managed to move past his shyness and hesitation, servicing me so deliciously I didn't have the coherency of mind to do much more than keep my lips wrapped around the head of dick so he could enjoy the vibrations of my mouth while I moaned continuously. Eventually I gave up and indulged on the sight of him going down on me while I simply pumped my hand up and down his hard length. He didn't seem to mind. In fact, he seemed to just enjoy giving me head.

I trailed my hand up his arm, resting on his side, kneaded his shoulder and then dug my fingers into his messy yet silky hair at the base of his neck. With flushed cheeks I asked him huskily: "Do you like having my dick inside your mouth?" I stroked my hand across his chest, down his body and encircled his member again for a few heavy-handed pumps.

He moaned in response. In response to my question, or in response to the physical attention, I didn't know, but I boldly drew my own conclusions.

"Do you want my dick inside your ass?" I felt his cock firm even more so in my grip. Taking it as a 'yes', I grinned. "Let's do this."

He let go of my erection with an audible pop and sat up, following my lead.

I stretched my body to reach for the tube of lube that had fallen between the fluffy pillows at the head of the bed. I didn't even notice how nervous I was until I saw the tiny tube was shaking in my unsteady hands and the plastic was slipping in my sweaty palms. I let out a breathless chuckle. I looked at Heero but only felt more nervous at the sight of his absolutely indifferent expression. I reminded myself that he wanted it, as much as I did. He might not have felt comfortable showing his desire on his features but his body betrayed his lust.

I pushed him down onto the mattress, on his back, at the foot of the bed where he had still been sitting, waiting for directions and I crawled over him. I felt him tense when my body heavily rested against his and I could see something in his eyes now that our faces were so close.

He made a disproving sound and pushed me back up, away from him. With a thoughtful expression he turned around and settled on his hands and knees. He tilted his head away, purposefully avoiding eye-contact.

The sight of him on all fours was undeniably tempting – my cock practically jumped up in my lap – but emotionally I didn't like how he continued to actively make this interaction as impersonal and clinical as possible. It wasn't what I wanted. It was bad enough that I wasn't allowed to kiss him, the realization that he didn't even want me to look at his face – and vice versa – hurt awfully somewhere in the depths of my chest.

It wasn't how I wanted it, but it was the only way I was going to get it and in my current physical state 'getting it' was ultimately the most important thing.

I maneuvered myself up on my knees behind him. My gaze lustily drifted along the smooth expanse of his back, glowing in the moonlight that cast a dark shadow highlighting the curve of his hollow spine. Experimentally I grabbed his narrow hips, feeling the bone underneath the soft skin and tense muscles. I leaned forward and licked the small of his back and then kissed my way up. In doing so my arousal bumped into him and we both shuddered. I plastered my chest against his back, unabashedly needy, and rocked into him, my dick pressed into the cleft of his behind, rubbing against him.

He let his head hang low, his breathing was sharp and uneven, like he was trying to hang onto his control which would ultimately get away from him. "Hn. Just do it already!"

"Right." I straightened up and took the lube into my hand again. Being inexperienced in anal sex since I had never had the kind of relationship with a girl that would permit it, I was unsure about how to proceed. I wanted to rock his world, to ensure he would want to do again someday, but I recognized I might fail miserably. Remembering it would be wise to stretch him before the first time, I slickened the fingers of my right hand and indelicately pushed a digit inside of him.

"Oh! Fuck!"

"It doesn't hurt, right?"

"No," He ground out. "But it's still fucking weird." He sucked in a lungful of air when I slid a second finger inside.

I worked my fingers in and out of him slowly while my other hand reached around him and gently tugged on his erection to make sure it didn't go down in the process.

Between his harsh breaths Heero seemed to be biting back his moans. Finally, he exclaimed: "Just go ahead and fuck me! I can't stand this any longer."

I didn't know if he couldn't stand it any longer because it was too weird or because it was too pleasurable, but I wasn't about to pause and ask for clarification, given his request. I pulled out my fingers, wiping them on my thigh and then squeezed most of the contents of the tube onto my stiffy, quickly rubbing it in, not stimulating myself too much as I did. With both hands I strongly gripped his hips again.

Heero spread his knees a little further apart, steadying himself in preparation.

Blood rushed through my ears, deafening like the roaring sound of stormy waves crashing onto the shore. There was that moment of disbelief; was this really happening? The goosebumps on my skin confirmed the reality of the situation. I felt almost sick with need and desire. Possessively I thought: I want to be the only man to ever leave his mark inside of Heero.

As determined to follow through as I was desperate for it, I scooted forward a little and pressed the tip of my arousal against his opening, biting my lower lip in anticipation as I did.

"Wait, wait, wait," Interrupted Heero, looking over his shoulder.

I groaned. "Oh God, don't tell me you've changed your mind?" My dick was throbbing.

"No, I- … You haven't been fucking around since we got tested, right?"

"Of course not. That was the deal."

"Okay, I just had to make sure."

"Have-… have you?"

He glared at me and then faced forward again.

"Right. Good." I was relieved, more so because I believed I would have been jealous if he had been with a girl since we started all of this, even though I damn well knew I had no real claim on him despite our rule to be exclusive. Now that we had established there was really no need for condoms since we hadn't had intercourse with anybody since our tests had come back clean, I positioned myself again. I aimed at his opening and tried to gently push inside, but it wasn't happening. Obviously my dick was much bigger than the vibrator he had used before. I worried I should have stretched him more, regardless of what he had ordered me to do. "Fuck… You should relax. It's too tight."

"Relax?" He snorted. "That's easier said than done."

"Just try, okay." One hand I removed from his hips to hold and guide my penis. I pushed my hips forward more powerfully, the pressure built until finally the head was accepted inside.

Heero moaned loudly.

"Oh my God…" I breathed deeply through my nose, stopping myself from harshly thrusting all the way inside of him and just brutally start fucking him, which was what my body craved at that point. I made sure I entered him as slowly and as carefully as I could. All the while my gaze was engrossed by the sight of my length disappearing inside of him, his body stretching around the thickness. It was amazing.

My lover – I could technically call him that from that point on – took hold of the sheets in white-knuckled fists.

When I was fully seated inside of him I paused to give him a moment, while I counted in my head: One Mississippi, two Mississippi, three Mississippi… I noticed Heero's uneven breathing, for long periods of time he was even holding his breath, like even the slight movement of his body caused by the heaving chest was too much. I stroked my hands up and down his sides, trying to soothe him. "Shhh, it's okay. Just breathe."

He released the breath he had been holding and inhaled deeply.

"Are you okay?" I wondered with genuine concern.

"I'm fine…" He whispered.

I chuckled dumbly. "God, you feel so amazing." I planted my hands on his hips again, but didn't start moving yet, enjoying the sensation of the tightness and the heat.

"Hn."

"Does it hurt?"

Heero snorted. "Of course it hurts, you ass-hat!"

In spite of the situation I laughed. When the laughter died down I leaned forward and placed soft kisses on his sweaty back. The slight shift drew moans from both our mouths. "It'll feel good soon, I promise." I had no personal experience to back up my claim, but receiving anal sex had to pleasurable, why else would people engage in it? "Are you ready?"

"Yeah."

I slowly pulled back to thrust back inside at an equally languid pace.

He drew in a shaky breath.

I gradually increased the rhythm but kept my thrusts long, controlled and careful. As I did I could feel him relaxing, it became easier to move, but the friction was still absolutely amazing. With my thumbs I pulled his cheeks apart and shamelessly watched.

I licked my smirking lips when Heero started to get vocal; moaning and gasping. I felt like a fucking sex-God, being able to do that to him with my dick.

"Ah! Ah! Please!"

"Please what?"

"Nnn. Fuck me harder," He breathed.

I immediately translated his request into action. Holding his hips steady I started pounding into him the way I had wanted to from the get-go.

He was moaning freely at that point, apparently he couldn't help himself.

I reached out one hand and twisted the fingers into the dark, damp hairs at the nape of his neck, pulling up his head and tilting it to one side so I could see his face as best I could. The one cheek I could see was flushed red. His eye was dark with passion and heavily hooded. His mouth was open to pant and to moan. His pink lips were wet and glistened. I licked my lips, imagining what it would be like to kiss him.

He shook his head free and lowered his upper body onto the mattress, resting his forehead on the sheets, hiding his face from my line of sight.

I was too preoccupied with the tempting sight of the new position of his body – his shoulders low and his ass high as I thrust into it – to fret about wanting to see his expressions, or wanting to kiss him.

Everything felt right. I had never felt like that before. With my girlfriends there had always been something missing. I didn't care for them the way I cared for Heero. I didn't think that it would, but the personal connection I shared with Heero added to the pleasure. Not even the fact that I wasn't allowed to kiss him dulled the experience.

My eyes trailed up from his buttocks, along his muscled back and up his long neck. On either side of his head his fists gripped handfuls of sheet tightly enough to tear them. I wanted to tell him how hot he looked, but decided against it. I wasn't sure if he would take the comment well. I just continued to fuck him hard, per his request and he rocked back against me with similar fervor.

The pitch of his incessant moans changed. I could feel him getting tighter around me again. I wondered if something was wrong, if it had started to hurt again, when suddenly he let out a carnal cry that seemed to surprise him as much as it did me. His muscles clamped down on me so tightly I could barely move. His body trembled. His shallow breaths were shaky.

I was frozen behind him. My concerns ebbed away as realization dawned on me. "Did you just-"

"Shut up!" He ordered with a shrill, shocked voice.

"But we didn't even touch-"

"Shut up!" His voice wavered, like he was emotional; upset.

"Don't be embarrassed," I tried to ease his mind. I leaned forward and kissed his shoulders and neck, breathing in the sweaty smell coming from his damp hair. "It's fucking hot."

"Let's just please get this over with," He ground out.

His suddenly disinterested, stone-cold demeanor normally would have turned me off, but he was so tight, especially after his orgasm and the thought that he came from just me fucking him, without either of us paying any attention to his erection, was too powerful. Even if I was hurt, even if I wished I could stop on principle, I couldn't. I straightened back up, pulling him up on all fours again and picked up the pace again.

Heero whimpered and moaned quietly, oversensitized in the aftermath of his climax.

It didn't take me long to reach my own completion, I could feel it building steadily in my lower abdomen until it erupted and I let out a strangled moan, holding his hips so tightly the pads of my fingers left white marks, which would perhaps turn into bruises after a while. It was the most overwhelming orgasm I had ever reached. My entire body shook from the force of it. A self-satisfied smirk appeared on my lips. I made a few more shallow thrusts, the passage was even more slick now, with my semen inside it.

"Ohhh… fuck… Happy New Year." I chuckled deeply. I'm so gay, I thought to myself, undisturbed by the revelation. I'm so fucking gay. I couldn't be considered bisexual, despite my past –enjoyable – relationships with women, not after that. The sexual experience with Heero – a guy – was far superior to anything I had ever enjoyed with my female lovers. All past experiences paled in comparison. While they had left me content, they hadn't left me fully sated and positively giddy like I felt in that moment. In all honesty, it was a relief, it explained why I had never fallen in love with any of my girlfriends, I had been fooling myself as much as I had been fooling them. The situation wasn't as hopeless as I had feared, I still had a chance at finding the love I had always been looking for. I had, stupidly, been looking in the wrong place.

"Please get out," Breathed Heero. He sounded exhausted.

"Hmmm, just a little longer?"

"Please…"

I sighed. Slowly and carefully I pulled out of him. With my legs feeling about as sturdy as jello I collapsed onto the bed, still panting from the exertion.

Heero slowly got up and moved to sit on the edge of the bed, his back turned towards me. I watched him run both hands through his hair.

I looked to the side and noticed two stains on the sheets. One was his semen, the other was higher up, a dark stain. It looked like tears soaked into the sheets. My heart constricted. I propped myself up on my elbow and softly asked: "Are you okay?"

He took a deep breath. "I'm fine."

I saw him wipe a hand across his face. "Did I hurt you?"

"No. I'll probably just end up a little sore."

I hadn't only been referring to physical hurt. I sat up and scooted towards the edge of the bed to sit next to him.

As soon as he felt the mattress shift under my moving weight he got up and started to walk away from the bed. He bent forward, with the slightest groan, to pick his clothes up from the floor.

In the light I could see a glistening trail running down the inside of his thigh, but I was too distressed to feel any sense of satisfaction that I normally would have.

He bundled up his clothes and held them against his body. Without turning back to face me he asked permission to use my bathroom.

"Sure."

He walked away and locked the bathroom door behind him.

I waited until I heard water running before I heaved a sigh and dropped back onto the bed. "Shit." Obviously Heero wasn't as ecstatic in the aftermath of our 'exchange' as I was. He probably had a lot of insecurities to deal with being the receptive partner. I may have had an epiphany regarding my sexual identity but it didn't seem like he had and I could understand why he would feel weird. Although I did secretly question if maybe Heero was fighting the same thing I had come to accept; welcome even. But I couldn't and shouldn't draw those conclusion for him. At that point I was too biased to be reliable anyway. Going into this neither one of us, especially not me, had suspected this could affect our sexuality, we were both equally convinced we were straight after all. Just because I had come to believe differently about myself, didn't mean he was experiencing the same change.

I put on a clean pair of underwear and a pair of sweatpants and then ripped the top sheets off the bed, bundling them up and tossing them in a corner. I had placed an extra layer of sheets on the bed anyway, since I had expected this outcome. I moved to close the curtains so we could still catch some sleep. By the windows, holding the drapes in both hands, I noticed the sun was starting the rise, the faintest hue of orange and pink tinted the sky at the horizon. I pulled them shut and groped my way back in the darkness to the bed where I flicked on the light on the nightstand. The room filled with warm, orange tones and long shadows that distorted everything. Figuring Heero would likely be more comfortable with me being fully dressed I retrieved a shirt from the dresser and put it on just in time.

Heero emerged from the bathroom, wearing his clothes from the day before; his jeans and button-up shirt. He was also wearing his sneakers, to my dismay.

I tried to make light of the situation. "You're not wearing those sneakers to bed."

Heero scowled at me. "I'm not going to go to bed with you. I should just go back to the dorm." He walked towards the door – he walked a little funny, I would smirk at the memory later, but not yet.

"Heero, please just stay here."

"I really don't think I should stay."

I argued: "And I really don't think you should leave, not while we're in this weird place. Obviously you're uncomfortable… I think we should talk things out, not leave it like this."

"I don't want to talk, Duo. I want to sleep."

"Fine, then sleep. But sleep here, so we can talk first thing in the morning." Remembering that technically it already was morning I waved my hand dismissively. "Or afternoon, or whatever."

"Alright, I'll stay. But I'm sleeping in one of the guest bedrooms."

"Why? We always sleep in the same room."

"Yeah, but not in the same bed! Not next to each other at least. And not after you just-!"

I realized that if I pushed the issue I was only going to push him away; the exact opposite of what I was trying to achieve. I unlocked the door for him and pointed him to the guest bedroom at the other end of the hallway and informed him there would be clean sheets in the closet.

He thanked me mildly and then walked away.

I went back to the bed and sank down onto it. I could only hope that he wouldn't completely freak himself out. I never wanted to make him feel insecure or uncomfortable. It was a risk we were taking with this 'arrangement', but I always expected we would be fine, as friends, no matter what happened. I hoped that, given some privacy, he would come to the same conclusion as I had; that it had been an amazing night and that it didn't have to affect our friendship. He had said it himself: it was just sex.

At some point I fell asleep, the exhaustion of being up all day and night got the better of me.

When I woke it was due to muffled sounds coming from downstairs. I sat up and stretched my arms and back, moaning as a number of joints popped. A glance at the alarm clock informed me that it was well past noon. Barefoot I walked downstairs and searched for the source of the sounds. I found Heero in the living room, rearranging the furniture that had been displaced for the sake of creating a dance floor. Stuffed trash bags lined the wall of the foyer. It appeared he had been making an effort to tidy the place up for a while.

He finally spotted me in the archway and froze momentarily. "Hey."

"Hey. Good morning."

He pushed the couch back into position.

"You should have come get me. You don't have to this by yourself. You don't have to do this at all." I assisted him with repositioning the second couch.

"It's fine, I couldn't really sleep." He chuckled, "And honestly, I was afraid a maid might come over or something. I'd feel horrible if someone else had to clean up this mess."

I smiled. He seemed to be in a good mood. "How are you feeling?"

He shrugged.

"So you're not freaked out about what happened? Because you seemed a little freaked out."

"I wasn't freaked out," He argued. "I just wanted to sleep by myself. I think it's important that we keep some kind of distance, we don't want this to resemble a relationship, that would just be weird."

Oh, that would be weird, I thought sarcastically, but not kissing and not even looking at each other during sex is perfectly acceptable. I neglected to remind him that he seemed really upset right after it had happened. I trusted that he had managed to work out his conflicted emotions. If he said he was okay with it, I had to believe it. More importantly: I wanted to believe it, because I didn't want our first time to also be the last time.

"Are you freaked out?"

"No." I considered sharing my epiphany with him regarding my sexual orientation, but immediately decided against it. The arrangement depended on a precarious balance, telling Heero he had made me realize my attraction to men would only upset things; it would upset him, because it would cross the boundaries he had been establishing from the start. It was strange not telling him, as my best friend I usually told him everything, even when it was not appropriate. So I could no longer deny that our sexual activities was affecting our friendship, I just hoped my reluctance to come out to him was the extent of it.

"Help me with the coffee table?"

I shook my head to clear my mind and came to his aid, lifting up the massive oak table and placing it in the center of the Persian carpet.

"Do you want breakfast? Or lunch, technically?"

He nodded. "Sure."

As I prepared our meals in the kitchen Heero moved around me clearing away plastic cups.

We ate in silence until I decided to take a chance. Feeling bold, I inquired: "What did it feel like?"

He eyed me warily. He knew damn well what I was referring to but still he asked: "What?"

"Getting fucked." I said it for shock value, because I loved the pink hue that formed on his cheekbones.

"Why do you want to know? Considering a switch?" He shot back after regaining his composure.

"Nope. Considering a repeat though."

He looked away.

"Would you want to do it again?"

He busied himself finishing his sandwich, being frustratingly evasive. Eventually he answered blandly: "I liked it."

I smirked. It was all I was going to get out of him, but it was enough. "I liked it too."

"Oh really?" He deadpanned.

"You were so tight," I purred.

Thinking I was playing with him, putting on a show, rather than practically melting in my seat at the thought, he laughed. "Is that a complaint?"

"Figure it out, genius-boy." I moved in closer and placed my hand on my thigh.

The bemused expression dropped from his face. "What are you doing?"

"I think we should finish that sixty-nine position," I insisted. You'd think I'd be plenty satisfied given the night I had had, but instead the memories just made me all the more horny and insatiable.

It didn't seem like Heero was about to disagree, in fact, unless it was a trick of my hazed mind, he leaned in closer, but we were brutally interrupted by the chirping of Heero's cellphone.

I groaned and got up from the seat, the moment was gone. I reached down and adjusted my half-hard member in my underwear to make myself more comfortable and then started to clear the table as Heero dug his cellphone out of the back pocket of his jeans. The only person who ever called him was his mother, so he could talk to his grandmother, those conversations were never short, in spite of the fact that on most days his grandmother didn't even realize who she was talking to, stricken by her Alzheimer's.

"Moshi moshi," He answered in his usual, monotonous fashion. "Oh, dad… it's you." He rolled his eyes up to the ceiling in displeasure. "Why are you calling me?..." He fell silent as he listened to his father, who spoke so loudly even I could hear him, albeit muffled.

"I would like you to come join me for dinner tonight, to celebrate the New Year."

Heero made a face, I chuckled. "It's not a Sunday," He pointed out. He had dinner with his dad every Sunday night and that was more than enough for him.

"That's no valid reason not to accept my invitation."

He balled his fist. "I can't dad, I'm at Duo's parents' place. We had a New Year's party and we really need to clean up the mess."

"How long can that possibly take? Besides, you have to eat anyway. You both do. You and Duo should both come over for dinner. I insist."

"No, dad-"

I leaned in close and called: "I'd love to, mister Lowe!"

"That's the spirit! Excellent! I'll be expecting you at six, we'll have a drink before dinner. Goodbye, son. Duo." He promptly hung up so his son couldn't back out.

"What the Hell did you do that for?" Heero glared at me.

"He was going to make you come anyway, now I can come as your reinforcement. Besides, I'd like to meet him. Then we can finally settle the bet on whose dad is worse."

He scowled. "There is no bet. And I wouldn't advise you to make that bet. Abandonment and coercion clearly trumps blatant disappointment.

"Please! I'm holding way better cards than just blatant disappointment!"

"No bet. I wouldn't make my best friend suffer the humiliation of losing."

"Aww," I wrapped my arm around his neck in a tight grip and ruffled his hair. "You ruv me, don't you?"

I oomphed when Heero jabbed his elbow into my stomach and stepped back.

He cast a mischievous glance over his shoulder.

"Ruv hurts," I deadpanned, rubbing my abused abdomen.

"Let's clean up this pigsty before your parents come home unexpectedly and your dad makes a compelling argument why he should be considered worse than mine." He filled the sink with hot water and soap and soaked a cloth to properly clean the countertop.

With an exaggerated sigh I dropped the playful antics and helped him clear away the mess and clean all the soiled surfaces. We had a good laugh when I noticed a pair of pink, lacey underwear strung up high in the crystal chandelier above the formal dining table.

"You'd think she would have missed that," He commented, looking up at me as I stood on the table to retrieve the tiny piece of fabric.

"Maybe it wasn't a girl wearing it." I jumped down.

"This isn't exactly standard male apparel."

I eyed the pink lace and smirked. "Come on, have you never done the underwear-swap?"

His frown was an undeniable answer.

"It's kinda fun, really. The girl wears your boxers and you wear-… Well…" I nodded at the panties with a grin.

"You've worn something like that?"

"Once, for laughs. And it worked out well because the girl decided not to wear my underwear, because it would should through her dress, so she went commando."

He chuckled and shook this head. "And who was this special lady?"

My smile faltered slightly, I threw the panties at the open trash-bag in the corner. "It was uh… It was Hilde."

"Oh."

To lighten the suddenly dampened mood I revealed devilishly: "We ended up having sex in a public place. It was pretty hot." Not as hot as last night though, I added secretively. "And wearing panties wasn't that bad. It was so tiny I couldn't really fit my dick all the way into it, which was like this major, irrational boost to my ego, like when I first trimmed my pubes and my dick looked way bigger. And because I couldn't fit, the tip sort of stuck out and rubbed the inside of my jeans."

He made a face and with mock disgust he noted: "We have gotten way too close." He continued cleaning up.

"Come on!" I drawled, trailing after him as he went from room to room gathering up all the trash bags. "Now that we've had sex we can talk about sex, right?"

His back stiffened. "Fine. I'll listen to you talk about sex, but not about the sex we had together."

"Why not?"

"Well…" He thought it over briefly, then continued authoratively: "You want to talk about sex as friends, right?"

"Yeah."

"We agreed to keep our sexual activities separate from our friendship, so I don't think it should be the topic of one of our friendly conversations. When we have sex we pretend that we're not friends and when we're friends we pretend we didn't have sex. I think that's the best way to keep it from muddling our friendship."

I chewed on the inside of my cheek. "Alright, I'll agree to the terms that when we're being friendly, I won't mention our 'sexual activities'. But I'm not going to pretend that you are not my friend when we engage in said 'sexual activities'."

"Why?"

"Because the way I trust you and the way I feel comfortable around you and the way I care about you is, in part, what made last night and all those times we sucked each other's dick, so fucking hot," I stated bluntly, putting my hands on my hips and defiantly looking down at him. I wasn't going to let him prohibit the last shred of intimacy still infused in the act.

"Fine."

I grinned victoriously. I hoped that the fact that he didn't even bother to argue with me meant the friendly intimacy between us added something to his pleasure as well. "So what's the best sex you've ever had?" I inquired innocently.

"What?!" He eyed me suspiciously. "I don't want to talk about that!"

"Why? Because it was last night?" I winked playfully.

He groaned and walked away. "You're insufferable!"

I didn't fret too much about his reaction. If he was really pissed at me for making that suggestion I was pretty sure he would have reacted differently. It almost seemed like he was overcompensating. Smug about the fact that he didn't deny the allegation I allowed him his space and headed upstairs to check the party-damage done there.

When I came back downstairs I went into my father's home office to retrieve the come-stained shirt I had left there.

Turning back towards the door I stared at the overturned picture of my grandfather. If I turned it upright my father would never be aware of anything that had transpired in his house, and what had happened in his own home office no less, but I left the picture face-down and walked out of the room. He would never know for sure what happened, he might brush it off as a careless action of the maid, but the thought that it might fuck with his head was exhilarating. I couldn't wait for the opportune moment to tell him his only child was gay

We were done with cleaning up well before dinner time, the mess had looked worse than it actually had been. We both showered – Heero laughed when I suggested to take a shower together, he thought I was joking, so I let it slide - and headed back to the dorm room to change into fresh clothes. It was a little strange to be back in our room, where nothing had changed and neither had we, or so it seemed. We joked and jabbed our elbows at each other as if nothing had happened, which was a stark contrast to how I was feeling; I felt even closer to him than before and I loved him even more, as my friend.

When it was time we arranged for a cab to take us to Heero's dad's place.

"So, tell me a little about him," I started once we were seated in the musty cad. The smell made it apparent the cabbie smoked cigars in there during his down time.

"You'll see."

"If I know absolutely nothing about him he'll know that his beloved son never speaks of him fondly."

He snorted. "Tell him I – most fondly – mentioned how he crapped out on me and my mom, left us with nothing. Tell him I – adoringly – recounted the pathetic phone call he made years later trying to worm his way into my life to rid himself of his own guilt for leaving in the first place. Oh and be sure to reiterate how I – dotingly, of course - told you of the moment he offered to pay for my education, blackmailing me into coming to the United States and forcing me to spend time with him, regardless of the fact that my grandmother was getting sicker and sicker and more demented and I had wanted to stay close to her. Now, by the time I get to go back to Japan, she won't even recognize me."

"Boy, your daddy's a dick," Commented the cab driver, looking at us through the rear-view mirror.

"Thank you!" Agreed Heero. He looked at me expectantly.

"Yeah, but, like, what does he do for a living?" I asked dryly, somewhat upset by his remark about finally being able to go back to Japan; leaving me.

"Something with computers," He brushed off dismissively, turning his head to look out the window.

"Something with computers?" I repeated. "You hate it when I tell people you 'do something with computers'."'

"He's going you to tell you he is a computer engineer for a large, multinational corporation. In reality, he's the tech guy on the third floor who changes the toner in the printers and cleans out infected software when some suit fapped off to the wrong porn site during his lunch break." As an afterthought he added dryly: "Tell him I said that proudly."

The driver chuckled. He made a left turn and then stopped the vehicle. "I hate to tell you this boys, but: we're here."

"What do I owe you?" I fished my wallet out of my pocket.

Heero grumbled under his breath and put his wallet away, seeing I beat him to it.

"Twenty-four dollars and eleven cents."

I handed him the cash with a generous tip – because I always felt compelled to do so given my privileged upbringing – and told him to keep the change.

"Good luck!" He said as I got out of the car.

"Thanks." I looked around the suburban neighborhood. The houses were relatively small and all of identical design. It wasn't an expensive area of town, but the homes were well-maintained and there was that typical, friendly, suburban atmosphere, exuding from the American flags on the porches and the decorated snow-mans on the lawns.

"Did he ever remarry?" I asked as we approached the front door.

"Yeah. But also divorced again."

"Did he have any more kids?"

"Nope." He took a deep breath and then rang the doorbell.

After a short moment the door opened to reveal a tall, handsome man. I could instantly see the family resemblance. Heero got his chocolate brown hair and his cobalt blue eyes from his father. But whereas Heero's features were sharp, narrow and delicate, mister Lowe had a distinctly more manly appearance, in the traditional sense; blessed with the classically attractive wide jawline, a bigger, but perfectly straight nose, and low hanging eyebrows shadowing smaller, more widely spaced eyes.

With his thin lips Lowe smiled at us both. "Happy New Year! Welcome! Please, come inside!"

In the narrow hallway he helped us out of our coats and hugged us – much to Heero's dismay – and then guided us to the overstuffed living room.

The room was actually quite spacious, but felt almost claustrophobic with the amount of furniture he had crammed into it. A sitting area of two couches, facing each other, in the center of the room, in front of the fireplace. A small table with two chairs by the bay window overlooking the driveway, with a chessboard occupying the entire surface of the table. Another seating area of two large lounge chairs in the corner, in front of stacked bookcases. And finally a dining table that seated four, which partially blocked the arched entry to the small but perfectly adequate kitchen in the back of the house. There were a lot of picture frames on the walls, all featuring sunsets, landscapes, architecture or pets. A single photo on the mantel piece stood out. It was a blown up picture of Heero – ridiculously large and dominating – taken at what must have been his high school graduation in Japan, he was holding a diploma of some kind. He looked positively chagrin.

"You have a very nice home, mister Lowe."

"Thank you. Oh and please call me Odin." The man appeared to be friendly enough, but I knew better. My father, too, was awfully friendly and impressive in social situations, when he wanted to be. "Wow, I can't believe I finally get to meet the famous Duo Maxwell." He made a point to formally shake my hand. "I have heard so much about you."

"Likewise," I lied with a smile.

"How is your school going?"

"Very well. Thanks to Heero, actually. He's been helping with my math classes."

Odin nodded fervently. "Yes, my son is very good at math. He is good at everything. He is so smart."

I smiled, genuine this time. "Yes, he is."

"He certainly didn't get it from his mother's side of the family." Odin winked.

My smile faltered. "Yeah. Sure." I happened to know that Heero's grandmother was very smart, before she was stricken by Alzheimer's she was an accomplished scientist; a chemist. Heero told me his mother was very smart as well, she just never had the drive to do anything with it. "So, what do you do for a living?"

"I'm a computer engineer. I work for a large, multinational corporation."

I shot at sideway glance at Heero who was rolling his eyes.

"Without me the place would fall apart," Odin continued. "My son is just like me. It's no coincidence that he has decided to study computer science as well."

"And Aerospace science and engineering," Heero interjected. "I'm doing a double major."

I was surprised he didn't stick out his tongue and go "Na na! I'm smarter than you, dad!" I suppressed a chuckle and accepted Odin's invitation to take a seat on the couch.

Heero sat down next to me and Odin sat down across from us after handing us both a beer, once we had repeatedly turned down his offer for a stronger drink.

In the following conversation Odin glorified himself shamelessly and every positive thing he had to say about his son related back to him. He made it seem like he was Michelangelo and Heero was his Sistine Chapel fresco; exceptional and marvelous only because he had designed and created it to be so. As if solely passing along his potent genes made Heero the intelligent, disciplined and impressive guy that he was. He inadvertently revealed why he had coerced Heero into coming to the United States and have some kind of familial relationship with him. Because Heero, as his 'legacy', was the only way for him to achieve the greatness that he pretended to possess. He had to foster that legacy and show it off as much as he could, to impress people the way he never could but always coveted. It was more important to him than anything.

I listened attentively, because his arrogance dumbfounded me to the point where I was interested to observe what had to be a psychosis of some form.

Heero was stiff and silent beside me, sipping his beer with tense jaw.

My thoughts slowly drifted away as Odin rambled on. I wondered if Heero had been right, if his father actually was worse than mine. On the surface he seemed to rave about his son, which seemed better than my father who was disappointed by my every endeavor, but really Odin negated all of Heero's accomplishments by basically claiming that he was the reason for his son's success. He stopped just short of referring to his son as an empty vessel through which he achieved success. He thought of himself as the puppeteer and Heero his puppet, through which he entertained the crowd, but always aware that it wasn't the puppet who was funny – the puppet was mindless, inanimate – it was him, he was the entire act, everyone else just failed to notice it because his trickery was so convincing. It might be better to have a father effectively disown you than take full credit for your hard-earned excellence.

And at least my father, however resentful he was of me, fed me and housed me all my life. Odin left Heero and his mother, subjecting them to a life of poverty. He came back into his life masked as a generous man, solely for selfish purposes, leaving Heero no choice but to move across the Pacific, leaving his sick grandmother behind, so he could get the education that would earn him the job that would allow him to financially support her throughout her costly illness. But over the course of the past few years the elderly woman has been deteriorating so rapidly she barely remembers her own grandson – even on her best days.

Maybe Heero had done me a favor by not taking that bet.

I was jostled awake when Odin asked me: "Do you play chess?" Apparently the conversation had shifted to their weekly game of chess without me even noticing.

"Uhm, I was taught how to play when I was younger. But it never really interested me so I sort of gave up on it."

"That's too bad. It is a great game, it is like warfare between two keen minds. My son and I match wits every week."

"I'm pretty sure I'm two moves away from checkmating you," My friend stated dryly, his arms crossed in front of his chest.

Odin laughed and waved his hand dismissively. "I'm pretty sure the opposite was true. But don't worry, I had to clear the board, so we have to start the game anew; you get a new shot."

"What do you mean you had to clear the board?"

"An old friend came over. He noticed the chess board and insisted that we'd play. I'm actually only a few moves removed from checkmating him. Him and I will continue our game next Thursday. Next week you and I can battle again."

Heero and I both looked over our shoulder at the chess table behind us, the pieces were scattered all across the board in a pattern that meant nothing to me. I grinned. Heero told me his father always found some excuse to clear the board whenever he threatened to lose. I couldn't believe it was quite that bad, but apparently it was.

"Well, I should probably get started on dinner. Why don't you two talk a little? I feel like I've been talking the entire time." He headed into the kitchen.

"That's because you were," I mumbled.

Heero snickered.

"Awesome picture by the way," I whispered, nodding at the oversized image of a younger Heero on top of the fireplace.

He glowered at me.

"Why aren't you smiling?"

"What?"

"In the picture. Why aren't you smiling? Isn't that, like, your graduation or something?"

He looked back and the photo and stated forlornly: "My grandmother couldn't come. She had one of her episodes. It was around that time that it really started to get bad. And I knew I would be leaving in a few weeks, to come here."

I reached out and stroked my hand through his soft hair in an attempt to comfort him. He looked at me oddly, making me realize the gesture was probably not the most normal between two – guy – friends, so I moved my hand to pat him on the shoulder once or twice – much more manly and respectable – and then pulled my hand back into my lap.

I flinched when right next to me the phone rang, obnoxiously loud.

Odin came rushing over, wiping his hands in a towel. "Hello?... Hmhm…. Hmhm…. Hmhm… Okay. Yes, I'll be there in about half an hour." He hung up the phone after a remarkably brief conversation. "I'm sorry boys, I have to cut this evening short. That was work. They need me to cover the nightshift. The guy that was supposed to come in can't. His wife's in labor…" He looked back at the kitchen. He only just started dicing the vegetables. He got his wallet off a table and took out a twenty, handing it to Heero. "Why don't you guys order pizza, hang out, take your time. I'm really sorry about this. I'm going to be gone all night."

"Don't worry about," I said, since my mute friend next to me wasn't about to say anything.

The man hurriedly gathered up some things; keys, a keycard and an employee's ID, stuffing it all into the pocket of his jeans along with his wallet. "I gotta go. I'll see you Sunday, okay?"

Heero nodded unenthusiastically.

"Okay. Bye! Oh, the key to the front door is on the table in the hallway. Lock the door behind you and just leave the key under the gnome. Bye!" In a bustle he was out the door.

I started to laugh hysterically, I didn't even know why.

"What's so funny?"

"He has a gnome?"

Heero sat sideways to face me and quirked an eyebrow at me. "Yeah, it's on the porch, in the corner. I hardly think that warrant this kind of hysteria," He noted as I continued to shake with laughter.

"I know!" I was practically out of breath. "He is such a dick!"

Heero chuckled, wholeheartedly agreeing.

"I mean, he just went on and on and on! 'If Heero ever invents anything he'd better put my name on the patent'!" I cackled at the memory. "It's like-! It's like-! The man should be studied! You should seriously meet my dad now. We could exchange war-stories for the rest of our lives." The laughter died down abruptly. "Or, you know, I mean… for as long as we are friends."

He smiled at me. " 'For the rest of our lives' sounds about right."

I smiled back at him but it was bitter sweet. "It's gonna be pretty tough staying friends with us being on opposite sides of the largest oceanic division on Earth."

"Signed up for that Geography elective, didn't you?"

"Marine biology, actually."

He leaned his head forward, resting it on my shoulders. "I think we'll be okay."

"Yeah?" I buried my nose in his hair, breathing in his scent, before I even realized that I shouldn't.

He looked back up and with a mischievous sparkle in his eyes he pointed out: "If we can survive you fucking me, we certainly aren't going to get beat by the long-distance-thing."

I stared. His lips looked so tempting when he smiled sweetly like he was doing. "You really aren't freaked out, are you?" It left me somewhat surprised, after him walking out last night I had expected him to still feel uneasy. It was a relief to know that truly wasn't the case.

"No. I told you." He cocked his head to the side. "You aren't either right?"

I shook my head, words failed me.

He toyed with the twenty-dollar bill his dad had given him. "You want to order pizza or do you just want to get the fuck out of here, use it for the cab-fare?"

"I want to suck your dick."

The shock was glaring on his features.

Before he could object I rolled off the couch an kneeled on the floor in front of him.

"You're serious?"

"Yeah." I got to work on his button-fly.

He squirmed. "Duo! What if my dad comes back?"

"He's going to be away all night, he said so himself."

"What if he forgot something and comes back real quick?"

"He would have been back already!"

He couldn't reasonably argue that. "Why do you even want to?"

I looked up at him and admitted in all seriousness. "Because I like sucking your dick." I pulled his half-hard member out of his underwear. That's right, half-hard already. He was just objecting for the sake of it. He wanted it.

He didn't verbally give his consent but he made no more arguments either and he let me go down on him. Soon he was fully erect and had his fingers twisted into my hair, moaning helplessly as I subjected him to the pleasure.

His dad would never know what happened in his own fucking living room, but it would be our secret revenge. Like me disrespecting my father's office by jacking off in it.

A devilish idea sprang to mind. Unceremoniously I took my mouth off him, smirking at the sound of his whimper. I threw his arms over my shoulders and pulled his upper body forward, flush against mine and grabbed his ass to lift him up off the couch and carry him around the sitting area to the chess table by the window. Luckily there were shutters in front of the window or we would be giving the neighborhood an eyeful. Holding him up with one arm I used the other the swipe the strategically placed pieces clear off the board, sending them flying across the room and I dumped him on the table before kneeling before him again.

He placed his hands behind him and leaned back on them, while staring down at me.

I toyed with the idea of fucking him, I certainly wanted to, but he had indicated earlier that day that he was sore and I didn't want to cause him unnecessary discomfort. Besides, I really did love performing oral sex on him.

Heero threw his head back and moaned as I continued to work my magic on him.

He called my name at the height of his pleasure and I loved that.

I swallowed his come and stood up, leaning over him. His lips were so close. I wished I could kiss them and share the taste of his passion with him as it still lingered in my mouth. "Hmmm," I drawled. "I shouldn't have done that."

"Shouldn't have done what?" He asked hazily and out of breath.

"I shouldn't have swallowed it. I should have spat it out right in the center of the chess board and leave it there for your dad to see."

"You're crazy." His chest was heaving as he tried to catch his breath.

I pressed my forehead against him, my lips were as close to his as he would allow them. "How well do you think he would take it?"

"He would murder you and put me on the first plane back to Japan," Was his matter-of-fact answer. For some reason I didn't doubt it. "If my dad thought I was gay," He continued, "He would have no use for me anymore."

I sighed and stepped back, giving him room to button up his jeans.

"Did you notice he always calls me his 'son'? He never calls me by my name. That is because he doesn't even consider that I am my own person. He only sees me as an extension of him. An extension of his 'greatness'. If I was gay he would see that as a grave insult to his person, he wouldn't be able to stand it. You heard what he said, everything I do is a reflection of him, or so he believes. He likes that as long as the reflection is positive. If it wouldn't be, he'd hate me for ruining 'his reputation'."

I nodded.

He slid off the table and looked around at the mess. "He's going to be really pissed when he sees this."

"I thought you would like that."

He looked up at me and grinned. "I do. Come on, let's get the fuck out of here."

I playfully slapped Heero on his behind when he walked past me towards the front door. I smiled innocently in response to the warning glare he threw over his shoulder.

Before stepping out I looked back into the living room at the chess table and the scattered pieces on the floor. Every week when Heero would sit at that table playing chess with his dad, he would think about me giving him a blow job.

I left with a self-satisfied smirk.


	13. Chapter 13

**Thousand words**

**_Thirteen_ **

He returned to our dorm room after his daily, early morning run. I didn't think he realized I was awake and had been since he left. He came back in with muffled music, coming from his earphones, filling the small, dark space. We hadn't bothered to close the curtains the night before, but it was still dark outside and would be for another hour or so. More present than the music was his labored breathing as he recuperated following the physical exercise; deep controlling breaths through his nose. I strained my eyes to watch him in the dark, he unwittingly enabled my ogling by switching on a small light on the desk. Still breathing heavily and completely unaware of my interested gaze he propped one foot on the seat of one of the desk chairs and started taking off his shoes. Before we started our sexual arrangement I had never been particularly interested in his morning routine, it was mundane, boring, annoying even because sometimes he would accidentally wake me at whatever ungodly hour he decided to go out for a run. Lately though, it seemed my biological clock purposefully went off so I could be secret witness to his pre-dawn customs. The viewing was most satisfactory when he came back; with panting breaths and skin glowing with a sheen of sweat. In the winter time he exchanged his spandex shorts for skintight thermal leggings down to his ankles. I could see the shape of every finely sculpted muscle down the length of his legs.

He moved to rid himself of his grey hoodie, initiating my favorite part of the spectacle. He was quite a sight in nothing but those tights, his chest bare and shining in the orange glow of the little lamp. His nipples were erect little nubs in the cool air. My eyes followed the curving lines of his silhouette. His hair was damp and stuck to his forehead and the back of his neck. He ran his hand through it, shaking the strands loose. He stood relaxed, his hips pushed forward slightly, shadows licked at hipbones and accentuated the bulge of his groin.

I had never looked at anyone the way I liked looking at him, not even at the hottest girls when I still believed myself to be wholly and solely attracted to the opposite gender and not even at other guys whom I recognized to be 'hot', now that I was being honest with myself in the wake of my personal discovery. Heero was a remarkable specimen of the human race; a tight, lithesome body of understated sinewy muscles. The exotic beauty of his face I was always been aware of, from the moment we first met; the interesting blend of Western and Eastern; the best of both worlds.

He finished an entire bottle of water before reaching into the closet to retrieve a towel and he switched off the light.

He left to take a shower, leaving me with the privacy to shamelessly jerk off.

He had that effect on me, now more than ever before. I couldn't stop looking at him. And whenever I looked at him I couldn't stop myself from thinking about that night.

It was the first day of classes of the new year, but I dragged my feet and rubbed my tired eyes on my way to class like I had the previous year and every year before that. It wasn't the case that I didn't care, but I wasn't passionate about the education I had fallen back on after being refused by nearly a dozen art schools. Classes especially became a nuisance since I found something that I was passionate about: this new level to my relationship with Heero.

We only had sex that one time, but since then I had experienced grave trouble keeping my eyes – and hands – off him. It seemed like he didn't want the anal sex to become the norm of our arrangement and I was willing to accept that, but regardless I couldn't stop thinking about it, fantasizing actively and excessively about future encounters. It was as agonizing to be away from him as it was to be near him. I itched and ached with longing, in a way I wasn't accustomed to. I was used to being the distant, aloof half of the couple, but Heero had taken this role upon himself and the more he played his part, the more I started to resemble a smitten schoolgirl, barely able to refrain myself from doodling his name in the sketchbook I always had on hand.

I had grown possessive. I had always been possessive of his friendship – Hell, I didn't even appreciate it that he and WuFei started to get along so well before I broke ties with the Chinese man. Recently I started to feel the twinge of jealousy at even the slightest look he was given by other people. Now that I had become fully aware of Heero's captivating allure I suspected everyone whose gaze lingered of impure thoughts.

Relena suffered the brunt of my irrational possessiveness, but in my defense, I was probably right in assuming her thoughts to be of the impure kind. She carried a torch for him ever since our Freshman year and she carried it like it was an Olympic sport; with disconcerting dedication.

I flinched and was shaken free from my thoughts when someone practically threw themselves against me, slinging an arm around my shoulders. The sight of green momentarily confused me, but then I recognized: "Nash. Happy New Year."

"You too, bro. I heard you had an awesome party and didn't invite me."

"I actually didn't invite ninety-nine percent of the people who showed up."

"Couldn't have been much fun without me."

"It wasn't fun," I said honestly, as it hadn't been, but not due to his absence. The party had being nothing but a frustrating delay to what eventually happened between Heero and I.

"I just wanted to give you a heads-up that there will be a party in our building tonight."

"Haven't you partied enough?" I wondered with a sideway glance.

"Never," He replied, grinning from ear to ear. He darted off to spread the news.

When my class ended at noon I was like a racehorse sprinting out of the gates. I had been antsy for the lunch hour since I had my morning coffee – only because prior to my shot of caffeine I didn't have the energy to be antsy. I rushed so there wouldn't be a line at the sandwich stand and offered the librarian the usual bride which was met with an endearing smile.

"Is it immoral of me to wish that you won't graduate this year?" She asked me, her mouth full with the first bite.

"I sometimes wish the same thing myself," I admitted, even going so far as wishing Heero wouldn't graduate so we could be together one more year before the distance would inevitably complicate matters. Not wanting to waste my time chatting with the older woman – as much as I liked our back and forth banter – I halfhearted waved goodbye and navigated to the private study room in the back.

"Holla!" I exclaimed gleefully.

"Oh, thank God, I'm starving!"

I chuckled and walked over to him, holding out his lunch. "How will you ever survive without me?" I jested, but the joke fell flat.

"Maybe I won't." He reached for the meal but I pulled my hand away teasingly.

"Maybe I should teach you to arrange for your own lunch. Maybe I should start right now." I sat down on the table next to his books and started picking at the wrapping of his favorite sandwich.

"Please don't," He bemoaned pitifully, playing along.

I bit back a gasp when he softly placed his hand on my thigh to make his appeal all the more convincing. I didn't think he realized what he was doing until he took note of my befuddled expression and drew his hand back into his own lap. Snapping back into a casual demeanor I handed him the sandwich and slid off the table into the chair next to his.

He dug in with big, greedy bites and looked at me sheepishly, with bulging cheeks, when he became aware I was staring at him. "What?" He managed.

"Nothing. Hamster."

He worked on swallowing his food before he defended: "I had to skip breakfast. My morning routine took a little longer than planned."

"How so?" I wondered informally, starting in on my own lunch to satisfy my stomach, which had been conditioned to last until noon on nothing but a big, strong cup of coffee.

"I took my time masturbating in the shower," Was the matter-of-fact reply, but his eyes shone mischievously.

I chewed slowly, stalling while I contemplated my reply. I decided to quip: "You should tell me next time. I'm more than happy to lend a helping hand."

He seemed to forget about his hunger, placing the food on the table. He took a deep breath and casually laid his hand on his groin, not really fondling or even cupping, just resting there.

I practically threw my sandwich onto the table, eager to participate in this game. I completely lost interest in satisfying my stomach and instead focused on stilling a different kind of carnal hunger. I extended my arm and pushed his hand away, replacing it with my own, wasting no time to insistently massage the growing bulge.

He rolled his head back and moaned.

"I've been horny non-stop since New Year's," I admitted candidly, too caught up in the moment to worry about how he would take the confession.

"Me too," He breathed, nodding in agreement.

My swelling dick pushed up against the stiff fabric of my jeans.

He copied me, reaching out his hand to touch me.

It was a little uncomfortable, having our arms stretched out, with our seats about two feet apart . Heero, pragmatic as he was, was quick to find a solution to the problem, a solution that thrilled me. Without a word he got up from his chair, threw one leg over my lap, both hands seeking purchase on my shoulders for balance, and took a seat on my thighs. One arm he wrapped around my neck, to keep him from falling backwards, the other hand he firmly planted on my crotch anew.

"Is this okay?" He whispered, a hint of uncertainty in his voice as well as in his eyes.

I bit down on my lower lip. "Ohh, fuck yeah," I ground out, encircling his waist with my left arm while my right hand made quick work of his button fly.

Following my lead he popped the button of my jeans and lowered the zipper, his eyebrows raised briefly at the discovery that I had neglected to put on any underwear. His intense gaze focused on his hand as he stroked it up and down my hard length, whereas I preferred the sight of his features, studying the effects my touch had on him.

Our heated breaths met and our bangs melded together as we pressed our foreheads together.

I moved my left hand down and squeezed an ass cheek. I could feel him shudder. I could hear his breath come out shakily. Emboldened by his reaction I pushed my hand into the back of his tight jeans, my fingers gripping the soft flesh. I tilted my head and placed a kiss on his cheek to test the waters.

He grunted and leaned further forward, burying his face in the crook of my neck.

Accepting that kissing still wasn't – and would probably never be – part of the deal I had my lips pay attention to the sensitive shell of his ear and quickened the pace of my hand, letting out a low moan as he did the same.

"I'm going to ruin your shirt," He warned, out of breath.

"Right back at ya." I didn't feel like taking my hand off his ass to push our shirts out of harm's way.

Heero came first but with his delicious keens he pulled me over the edge and I moaned throatily in his ear as I followed him into a state of rapture.

He leaned against me heavily, catching his breath. His chest moved against mine.

I took my hand out of the back of his jeans and stroke along his spine with feather light touches, feeling oddly content with him in my arms in the aftermath of our orgasm.

Heero took a deep breath and then extracted himself from me, getting up and sitting back on the table. He covered himself back up and reached for the napkins that had come with our lunch and handed one over to me.

We cleaned our shirts as best we could with the paper napkins and I inquired – slipping back into our platonic routine: "How was dinner at your dad's last night?"

He shrugged. "Same old."

With our shirts inside out to hide the stains we went back to our dorm room to change clothes. As we stood in the limited space between the desk and the bunk beds I smirked at him and playfully jabbed him in the side with my elbow while his arms were constricted as he was putting on a clean T-shirt. He innocently got a sweatshirt from the closet but whipped me with it across the back of my legs before putting it on.

"Ow!" I rubbed my offended behind.

"Oh, I'm sorry," He affronted sarcastically, "Did I hurt your ass?"

We both laughed.

The day dragged on and I was more distracted than ever.

Exactly because I was so eager to see Heero again after a long day I agreed to an informal basketball game on the outside court. It was cold, but the sun was shining, so the weather was really no excuse to decline the invitation. I didn't really like how obsessed I was starting to get with Heero and if anything me getting increasingly clingy would only drive him away. I didn't even know why I coveted his company as much as I did. I spent so much time with Heero, how could it still not be enough? It was silly. I reminded myself of my past girlfriends who could never seem to get enough from me. I could never figure out what they wanted from me, as I was now stumped for what I really wanted from Heero. It was probably the whole kissing-thing, I thought to myself as jogged back and forth along the court as opposed to actively partaking in the game. I wrote it off as a classic case wanting something I couldn't have – wanting it for the sole reason of being denied it.

When Obie dribbled past me with the ball I saw an opportunity and I snatched it from him. I easily evaded my opponents on the court as I approached the hoop and made a perfect, unobstructed shot. I grinned victoriously when the ball went through the hoop, all net. I was baffled at the laughter surrounding me. I looked around and noticed every single one of them had stopped dead in their tracks and were staring at me – some even pointing at me – as they mocked me with their roaring laughter.

Obie stepped up to me and smacked me on the back of my head. "We're on the same team," He reminded me dryly. He slung an arm around my shoulders and pointed at the hoop where I had just scored. "That one's ours."

"Well fuck."

One of the guys jogged to the corner to retrieve the forgotten ball. "What's on your mind, Maxwell?" He teased.

Obie's laugh was loud in my ear. "I'm betting girl-trouble!"

The others grinned.

My married friend looked at me knowingly. "I know you hooked up with someone New Year's eve."

I felt my face get hot.

Addressing the others he said: "I caught him in a room, supposedly 'all by himself'. Be honest, you had a chick hiding under the desk." He poked at my chest.

"No, man."

He snickered and let go of me, he didn't believe me.

I wondered how my newly discovered sexual identity would affect my friendship with these guys, if we could still tease each other like that and be comfortable around each other, or if the atmosphere would be tense and the friendship insincere, dragging on only for old times' sake. There would be no need for them to feel uncomfortable around me, I wasn't attracted to any of them, but the matter wouldn't be quite as simple as that. Still, I wouldn't have any qualms telling them, if they couldn't accept me for who I was, I didn't need them in my life. But I wasn't going to tell them yet, even though part of me was aching to, if only due to the desire to shock them with a bluntly put confession. My coming out would raise a lot of questions regarding my relationship with Heero – since everyone already joked we were romantically involved – and I didn't think our fragile arrangement would be able to survive such questions; Heero would end it.

The game continued and I had to suffer their mockery every time I managed to steal the ball away, with every single one of the members of the opposing team trying to trick me into thinking they were on my team.

After bringing victory to my team despite my previous mistake we gathered the layers of clothing we had gradually discarded as the exertion had kept us warm and headed back to our respective buildings to clean up and figure out what to do for dinner.

In our building Nash was already making preparations for his party. The stereo was blaring as he cleared out what little furniture we had and stacked red cups on the kitchen counter. I knew Heero would have fled the scene, but I tried not to care about where he had gone to escape the ruckus. I showered and continued working on the project that was due at the end of the month, not bothered by the background noise. When the party appeared to be in full swing I headed downstairs to mingle and make good use of the free beer. I instinctively accepted a joint that was handed to me by a stranger, but immediately passed it along to another unknown person.

I found myself a corner where I could glower undisturbed after having caught sight of Hilde and Relena making rounds.

Of course when she saw me she headed straight for me, trailed by Relena.

"Hey," Hilde greeted with raised voice to be heard over the music.

"Hey."

"Happy New Year."

"Yeah." I chewed on the inside of my cheek, then added: "You too."

"Where's Heero?" Asked Relena.

"Don't know."

Relena and Hilde shared an odd look. Relena continued to me: "But aren't you guys attached at the hip?"

"Jealous?" I shot back.

Her expression was indignant but the answer would have been yes if she had dared to be forthcoming.

Hilde leaned in and said: "I'm sorry I couldn't make it to your New Year's party."

"I'm not."

She pursed her lips and told her friend: "Let's go. I want to get another drink."

"Why?" Relena looked down at Hilde's full cup. She probably wanted to stick around me and wait for Heero to show up, knowing he would come to me like I was a homing beacon.

Hilde demonstratively put the cup to her lips and tilted her head back. She made quick work of her beer and displayed the then empty cup. "Let's go."

"Okay, okay." The two girls left, melting into the crowd.

That actually went quite well, I quietly prided myself, noting the absence of seething rage. I just still didn't feel like hanging out with her, pretending that we could be friends again.

Growing bored of the party I refilled my cup and snuck the beer upstairs, maneuvering around a couple that was making out halfway up the winding staircase.

I stepped inside the cramped room and noticed the small orange light on the desk was on, even though I was sure I had switched off all the lights when I decided to join the festivities downstairs. The moan I heard made me shudder. I walked further into the room, around the foot of the bed and took in the sight of Heero lying sprawled on the lower bunk, on his stomach on top of his sheets. His sweatshirt was on the floor, the shirt he was still wearing was hiked up his back, his jeans were pushed down to mid-thigh. His ass was barely raised up, just enough so he could fit his right hand under his body to stroke himself which was clearly what he was doing.

He looked at me with dark eyes as I stood there, dumbly holding my beer, staring at him. "What have you done to me?" He moaned. "I'm still so fucking horny."

I swallowed the lump in my throat. "I'm sorry?" I didn't know what to say, I could barely form coherent thoughts.

He made barely perceptible thrusts with his hips, moaning as he fucked his own hand. His cheeks were red, he was clearly embarrassed, but he didn't shy away from the eye-contact.

"Do you want me to help out?" I offered.

"No," He groaned and his face contorted at his own, obvious lie.

But I wasn't going to do anything unless he asked me for it, so I took his answer literally and questioned: "Do you want me to leave?"

"No." This was no lie.

If I wasn't supposed to touch but he didn't want me to leave either, I was left with only one option and it didn't bother me in the least. I sat down in one of the chairs and watched, coolly sipping my beer.

He bit on his lower lip, trying to control his moans.

"Tell me honestly," I started, "Did you think about me last night when you were at your dad's?"

He nodded shamefully.

"Did you think about me sucking your dick?"

Another nod.

"What did you do in the shower this morning that took so long?"

"Ahhh…"

Recognizing I was on the right track, I continued devilishly: "Did you fuck yourself with your fingers?"

He didn't answer but there was no need to, his expression spoke volumes; a telling mixture of mortifying shame and undeniable excitement.

"Do you want to use your fingers now?"

He shook his head, he was too embarrassed.

Painfully hard in the confines of my jeans I put away my drink and started to unbutton my fly. "Do you mind?" I asked, pointedly looking down at my hands as I undressed myself.

He didn't say anything, which I interpreted as tacit approval, since he didn't object either. He moaned favorably when I exposed myself, confirming my suspicions.

We masturbated together. I wasn't sure which was a bigger turn on, the sensation of my own touch, or the sight of his clouded eyes as he watched me. I think the powerful orgasm I experienced, that exceeded any climax I had achieved on my own, removed all possible doubt from my mind. I was rather shocked by the extent to which he affected me. Even though we didn't touch each other, it was one of the most intimate moments I had ever experienced. His gaze connecting with mine was indescribably sensual.

Heero wasn't far behind in reaching his completion. He squeezed his eyes shut and buried his face in his pillow, muffling the high pitched moans while his entire body tensed up with the force of his climax. He lay still for a moment, regaining his composure, then he rolled away from the stain he had created on his sheets. Lying on his back he pushed his hips off the bed so he could pull up his jeans.

I wasn't in a hurry to get dressed, relaxing in my seat instead. I nodded at his soiled sheets: "The laundry just keeps piling up."

He lay back and let out a breathy chuckle.

We listened to the music coming from downstairs for a while.

"I really want to sleep," He expressed tiredly, referring to the noise that would keep him awake. His hand absentmindedly ran up and down his torso.

"You can skip your morning run for once in your life, sleep in a little."

"Hmmm…"

I chuckled and got up from my seat. "Doesn't seem like you'll have any trouble sleeping." I pulled the top layer of sheets off his bed, laughing as he rolled off them, plastering himself against the wall. I got him a spare, thick blanket from the closet. Then I helped him out of his ratty old sneaker, he wasn't really incapacitated beyond the point of being able to take off his own shoes, but he didn't fight me so I supposed he appreciated the tender care I bestowed upon him. After pulling off his socks as well I selflessly offered to help him out of his jeans.

His eyes remained closed but he smirked. "You can't be trusted not to sodomize me."

"You're probably right." I changed into a fresh pair of underwear and a long sleeved shirt to sleep in and climbed into the top bunk, flicking the light switch at the foot of the bed before crawling over and properly planting myself face down on the mattress. After a while I rolled over so I could stare at the ceiling. "Hey, Heero?"

"Hn?" Was the belated reply.

"Don't spend another year completely exhausting yourself."

"Why should this year be any different?" He mumbled tiredly in response.

"Because this is the year the time will come you have to get your own lunch. I'm not going to be around to look after you, you have to take care of yourself." I pressed. I knew once he went back to Japan no one cared about his well-being, his mother just wanted him to earn money so he could support her and his grandmother was too far lost to Alzheimer's to mind her own health, much less her grandson's.

"I'll be fine."

But I won't, I thought. I always made friends easily, not to sound conceited, but people naturally gravitated towards me, I was easy to like. But I had never had a friend like Heero before and I realized grimly I would never again. He was, after all, my soul mate. Not in a romantic way, I didn't believe that the love of your life and your soul mate were necessarily the same person. I was convinced I had found my soul mate in Heero, in my friend. We were a balanced couple, equal parts opposites-attract and birds-of-a-feather-flock-together. What was I supposed to do without him? I anticipated an emptiness that would throb with phantom pain.


	14. Chapter 14

**Thousand Words**

**_Fourteen_ **

The sound of splashing water echoed through the open space. The sharp whistle of the coach I could feel in my bones. The Juniors climbed out of the water on one end of the pool, receiving feedback from the assistant coach, as on the other end of the pool, the seniors got up on the diving platform. I was on the top row of the bleachers, a sketchpad in my lap, but I hadn't created anything other than meaningless doodles, too preoccupied watching the training. Watching one person in particular, of course. I was one of only few spectators, a routine training meet was nothing special, but there was an overbearing father present and a couple of swooning girls from the university paper, gladly observing the half-naked, trimmed and ripped bodies for the sake of the integrity of journalism. I didn't pay any attention to them.

Heero stood on platform number three, a cap covered his hair, goggles protected his eyes, not a particularly flattering look if not for the swim jammers, which left nothing to the imagination, especially considering his tendency to stand with his hips pushed forward slightly. And especially considering I knew exactly what he looked like without them on.

At the first whistle the swimmers got into position, at the second whistle they dove into the water and with a butterfly stroke started speeding towards the opposite end of the pool.

Before they would complete their race I gathered my things, got up and left. I strategically held my sketchpad in front of me. The things Heero did to me without even realizing it were embarrassing.

Outside the cool air provided a quick solution to my body heat. Keeping my jacket over my arm rather than putting it on I let the wind chill me to the bone. If I went to the dorm room I knew I would just end up jacking off anyway and I really had to finish that project on Art Nouveau, it was due in only a couple of days and I had been procrastinating like the best of them. I applauded my own discipline – belated as it was – as I headed for the library.

After two cups of coffee and the emergency energy drink from my backpack, I decided I had done enough. It wasn't that late, the material was just so boring it had a potent ability to put me to sleep. The fact that I knew Heero's practice ended half an hour ago and he would be back in our room by then, had me shoving papers into my pack and swiftly heading out the door.

He had me chasing after him like a lovesick puppy; drooling and wagging my tail, so to speak. It had been over three weeks since New Year's Eve and we hadn't had sex since. It was becoming increasingly more likely that he didn't want to do it again and instead seemed determined to limit the arrangement to jerking each other off and giving each other blowjobs, but those actions – pleasurable as they were – didn't satisfy me. I was always hungry for more. Having him suck my dick didn't provide me the closeness that I yearned for. I wanted to be inside him, in more ways than that phrasing might imply at first glance. I wanted to wrap my arms around him, I wanted to kiss his neck, kiss his ear, kiss his cheek… kiss his lips. A quick handjob in the study room didn't do it for me anymore. If I was purely seeking physical release that might have continued to be enough, but apparently, for whatever reason, that wasn't enough.

I suspected Heero secretly wanted more too, as much as me, he seemed discontented, but was denying us both for the wrong reasons; shame and fear. He was insatiable and eagerly initiated some kind of exchange at least on a daily basis, but even as the increased frequency left us both unsatisfied, he didn't indicate he wanted more and I didn't dare to offer, too afraid to shatter this delicate alliance.

Some of the guys were downstairs in the living room, drinking and laughing, they didn't even notice me coming in through the front door of the dorm building and passing through the hallway to the winding staircase. Their laughter grew faint and distant as I headed up and towards our room.

As expected Heero had returned from swim practice. He sat at the desk, highlighting key words in a textbook with an orange marker. Of course he was aware of my presence, but he didn't acknowledge me.

I dumped my bag on the foot of the bed, of the lower bunk, his bunk, I would get scolded for that later, I knew. I stepped further into the cramped space to stand behind him. After a thoughtful pause I placed my hands on his shoulder and at that simple touch he sighed and relaxed, sitting back in the chair, leaving the textbook and the marker discarded on the desk. With my thumbs I gently massaged the muscles over his shoulder blades. His hair was still damp and his body was still warm from the hot shower he always took following training, which explained why he was only wearing his tight jeans and his forest green tank top.

Quietly I massaged his shoulders, enjoying the soft feel of his skin over the hardness of his muscles.

He sighed, then spoke mildly: "Did you put your bag on my bed again?"

I smirked, priding myself on how well I knew him. "Yes," I replied coyly.

"Do you think I make my bed every morning just so you can have the pleasure of messing up the sheets?"

I leaned forward and whispered in his ear with hot breath: "If I wanted to mess up your sheets I would know of better ways to go about it." I flicked the tip of my tongue along the shell of his ear, eliciting a shudder. I continued to innocently massage his shoulders and neck even as I recognized we both wanted something different, something more. "How was swim practice?"

"If you had stayed, you wouldn't have had to ask."

"I didn't even realize you knew I was there. You never looked up once." There was a slight bitterness in my tone.

"With those silly goggles on it's hard to tell which way I'm looking. When I finished the fifty meter butterfly, I looked up and saw you were gone."

"Did you win?"

"No, Trowa beat me. He's always been better at the butterfly. It didn't bother me that I lost, it irked me that you left. It made me wonder if we were having a fight… or something."

I stilled my hands and leaned over his shoulder to look at me. "What would we be fighting about?" I challenged lightheartedly.

"I don't know." Yet following his dismissive shrug he stated quietly: "About sex."

I softly kissed his neck. "We're not fighting. If you don't want to have sex again, we won't and I won't argue." As much as it pained me to give up on that level of physicality between us, I would back up my statement, I never wanted to hurt Heero's feelings; making him feel like I was misusing him.

He sighed, my words seemed to relieve him, which made me feel guilty, for making him feel differently before.

Willing and eager to show him I'd be up with whatever he wanted or didn't want, I slid one of my hands down from his shoulders over his chest, into the loose tank top. My hand strayed to the right to tease the nipple into an erect state and then proceeding to tease him by rubbing the hardened nub between my thumb and forefinger whilst kissing his neck and sucking on his earlobe. The front of his jeans was pushed up as far as the coarse, constricting fabric allowed, by his growing arousal.

After worrying his earlobe between my teeth and paying attention to the other nipple I tilted my head to look at his face and read his expression. When I recognized his response was favorable to the full extent I moved my hand further down, letting my fingers lightly ghost over the taut plains of his abdomen before worming the tips of my fingers into his tight jeans. My left hand was on his neck and underneath my palm I could feel his racing heartbeat.

The constant awareness that I wanted him more than he wanted me always throbbed but the pain was dulled by Heero's enthusiasm. I was thrilled when he placed his hand on the back of my neck and pulled my face close to his. Surely he didn't have the intention to initiate a kiss but his act emboldened me to plant a quick peck on the corner of his mouth. Immediately doubt and worry were evident in his eyes, to erase all traces of that I lightened the atmosphere by pointing out: "Your jeans are too tight." I had managed to wiggle my hand into the front of his jeans, where it was immobilized over the bulge of his groin.

He breathed heavily: "Then take them off."

He certainly didn't need to tell me twice. I retracted my hand from inside his jeans. I pulled up the hem of the tank top that had been tucked into his jeans and bunched up the fabric high up on his chest, exposing his torso. Then my hand moved back down and made quick work of the button and the zipper. With the fly open I pulled his stiff manhood free from his underwear. I grinned at it, standing straight up and reddened with evident desire and need. I let my hand roam over his chest and abdomen for a while, purposefully neglecting his erection. I chuckled at the slight, upward thrusts his hips made whenever my fingers grazed the dark curls at the base.

"You're such a fucking tease."

I let out a laugh. "That's the pot calling the kettle black." Finally I reached down and wrapped my warm hand around him, smiling at the shudder that passed through him. I stared at my fist as it moved up and down, enjoying the sight of it, grotesque and perverted as it might be. Heero must have liked it too, he was looking as well. He moaned hotly in my ear. I wanted to twist my fingers into his hair and force his head back and thrust my tongue into his hot mouth, engage his tongue in a battle for dominance, but I knew he didn't want me to. That stung, enough so to be felt through the hazy mist of pleasure that shrouded my senses.

To distract myself I asked him: "Do you want me to put my fingers inside you?" He let me do so a couple of times before and it seemed to heighten his pleasure, as it did mine.

He let out a pathetic whine, confused by his conflicted feelings; torn between wanton desire and irrational shame.

I asked again, huskily: "Do you want my fingers inside you?"

"I want… you." He admitted after a pause.

"You want me, what?"

He looked at me meaningfully and repeated more convincingly: "I want you."

My heart leapt in my chest and my dick leapt in my pants, so much so that ribs might have been cracked and seams might have been torn. "You want me?"

His cheekbones flared red but he nodded nonetheless.

"Are you serious?"

"Duo…"

"Well, I'm sorry, this just comes out of the blue. And considering what we just talked about, I don't want you to feel forced-"

"As if you could ever force me to do something I didn't want."

That was a relief to hear, but still… "But-"

He bit his lower lip, hesitating momentarily before pleading: "Please fuck me."

"Ohhh… fuck…" I moaned helplessly, looking into his clouded blue eyes. "Say that again."

"Please fuck me, Duo."

The addition of my name made it even better. With urgency I stepped around the chair and hoisted him up to his feet, pressing him against me. I buried my nose in his hair to stop myself from kissing him and tightly wrapped my arms around him, holding him to me, feeling the wild, excited beating of his heart reverberate in my own chest. I grabbed his narrow hips, my fingers digging into the skin as his jeans and underwear had been pushed down to mid-thigh. I lifted him up and turned us around so I could deposit him on the surface of the desk. I placed a chaste kiss on the tip of his nose and then stepped back. "Give me a second," I urged and then moved to the closet, momentarily caught off guard by my own, disheveled and embarrassingly eager reflection in the full-length mirror before ripping the door open and tossing over stacks of clothing to locate the full-size bottle of lubrication I had purchased in anticipation after New Year's Eve. When I turned back around I noticed with dismay and disappointment that Heero had repositioned himself; standing in front of the desk, his forearms resting on his surface, again forcing a position that wouldn't allow me to see his face.

I surrendered to it, not in the least because he looked absolutely irresistible with his jeans around his ankles, his ass offered to me. I quickly stripped myself of my sweater and pushed down my pants just far enough as I came to stand behind me.

"That's quite a sizable tube of lube," He remarked dryly once I put it on the desk next to his right arm, after pouring a generous amount into my hand.

"We're going to need it," I retorted with a grin. I unceremoniously stretched him with my fingers, looking forward to when that would no longer be necessary and his body would be so used to my length and thickness that I could just push into him without preparation. Then he would be truly mine, I thought possessively. I curled my fingers to tease his prostate, drawing gasps and moans from him and causing him to push back against the intruding digits, wanting more. "You really love it, don't you?" I marveled.

He grunted: "I love your dick more."

I bit my lip, stopping a groan deep in my throat. "You're just full of pleasant surprises today." I pulled out my fingers and pumped my slick fist up and down my erection to make sure I was well-lubricated before pressing the head against his opening. As I did the first time, I gently urged him to relax with soft words and he was able to accommodate my size more easily than the previous time. We moaned in unison. Once I was fully seated inside him I stilled to enjoy the sensations and give him time to steady his breathing. When I recognized he was ready I fucked him like he had pleaded me to, with a steady rhythm of long, powerful thrusts.

"Oh, fuck yeah…" He groaned approvingly, biting his own fist to keep himself from getting too loud.

In that moment I realized the door was unlocked, but I didn't stop, because with little delay I realized that I didn't even care if someone were to walk in on us in the heat of the moment. I wasn't ashamed. He was mine and I wouldn't mind other people knowing it.

Feeling my orgasm approach swiftly and mercilessly, I reached around him and formed my hand into a tight fist around his arousal. The force of my thrusts moved our bodies back and forth, so he fucked the tunnel I formed with my hand with the same pace with which I fucked him.

It was over soon. Too soon. It was embarrassing, really. But Heero was right there with me. Even in my incapacitated state I thought to catch his semen in my hand to prevent it from ending up on the open pages of his textbooks.

I collapsed forward, my body covering his as he lowered his chest to rest on the desk. We both panted harshly.

I chuckled. "I swear I usually last longer than this."

"Sure you do," Heero replied, I could imagine him rolling his eyes.

"I'm serious." I kissed the back of his neck, tasting his sweat and smelling it in the damp hairs. "Your ass is just too good."

He scoffed but with a quick glance I could see he was blushing.

With a deep exhale I straightened up, carefully pulled out of him and fell back into one of the desk chairs. I stared at his shapely behind with a silly, satisfied smirk.

Heero got up and pulled up his jeans with a groan. "Now I'm going to have to take another shower."

"Why?" I asked mirthfully, looking up at him, at his reddened cheeks, his tousled hair and his glowing skin. "It's a good look on you." I grabbed his hips and tugged him towards me. With my nose I pushed up his tank top and kissed his stomach above the hem of his underwear, the fly of his jeans still open. "You even smell good."

He let out a single laugh, distrusting the truthfulness of my words. He probably brushed it off as me messing with him. Without much further ado he grabbed a towel from the closet and headed out. When he realized we had left the door unlocked the horror was apparent on his features. He looked back at me. "We really have to be more careful than this. We can't let it get a hold of us again like that, making us so careless."

"Don't count on it."

He made a face and then left.

With a towel I cleaned myself off enough to be presentable and headed downstairs myself for a shower, reckoning the second bathroom would not be in use with the guys drinking and smoking in the living room.

I smirked at my distorted reflection in the metallic surface of the shower head. I had gotten what I wanted, after all. Or had I? My smile faltered. To a certain extent Heero had given me exactly what I had been craving since the change of the year, I certainly had no right to be displeased, but still there was this gnawing feeling that as great as it had been, it wasn't enough. I wanted to look into his eyes. I wanted to kiss his lips.

Why was that important? I always wanted more than just sex from my girlfriends, but it never happened. While in most of my relationships we cared for one another and liked each other, there was never love between us. There was love between Heero and I, friendly love, and I thought that would remedy the emptiness I had always experienced during the act, and it did, but there remained a disconnect between what I was feeling and what we were doing, I just had trouble defining it. I had a growing suspicion that my platonic affection for Heero muddled my clarity of mind and made it difficult for me to determine if platonic love and affection were really the only feelings involved. As my aunt's nanny innocently pointed out during the last, horrid, Christmas celebration, the fact that we were friends who deeply cared for each other and now also had an intimate, physical relationship, made the arrangement bear a striking resemblance to a loving relationship. That was very confusing, because how could I possibly know when it would stop being a purely friends-with-benefits arrangement and start being something more? Was the distinction even discernible? The fact that I had never really been in love before and that my friendship with Heero had always exceeded the norm, made it all the more difficult to accurately define matters.

I scoffed at myself. Was I honestly wondering if I was in love with Heero? If I was capable of falling in love with him, wouldn't I have fallen much sooner, wouldn't I have realized my attraction much sooner? It was too ridiculous to even contemplate. Yet it appeared the knot in my stomach wouldn't be disentangling any time soon.

When I went back upstairs Heero lay in his bed. My bag he had dumped on my top bunk, unfortunately for him, that didn't bother me, I wasn't the type of guy to make his bed in the morning or take any sort of pride in the appearance of his living quarters. Beiing the young guy that I was, I was perfectly fine with unmade beds and dirty socks lying around. We couldn't all be properly raised men, like Heero. His grandmother, although loving, had been strict and old-fashioned in this regard. She had taught him to be neat and disciplined and he proudly lived by those lessons to honor her, as opposed to his selfish mother. I was raised by nannies who cleaned up after me, I couldn't be bothered trying to make anyone proud.

I pulled my bag off my bed and dumped it on the floor, where it would probably end up bugging Heero the next day. I smirked at him and he glared back at me as he watched me.

"Goodnight, loverboy," I purred.

He could barely hide how horrified he was at the nickname. He turned around in his bed, turning so his back was facing me, and retorted gruffly: "Goodnight."

For a moment my gaze lingered on the back of his head, my eyes trailing a few chosen locks of hair that cascaded down from his scalp feathered out on the white pillow case. I wanted to run my hands through the strands, knowing them to be soft, but that would be frowned upon. It wouldn't be appropriate. I could fuck him but I couldn't run my hands through his hair in that moment, nor kiss him goodnight. That seemed fucked up to me. But it was probably I who was fucked up, craving these weird, irrelevant things.

I climbed into my top bunk, hiding there, staring at the wall as all through the night the knot in my stomach ached.

Something was not right.

Something was plain wrong.

Confusing feelings and desires that I wished to dismiss as insignificant could not be brushed off and that simple fact made them significant.

I experienced no trouble acknowledging and admitting I was gay when the realization dawned on me, but the possibility that I might have fallen in love with my best friend was not as easy to accept. Because I knew… I knew he wouldn't love me back, not like that. My unwanted affections would ruin our friendship. He would distrust me. He would flee back to Japan to avoid the discomfort of being around me and he would never look back. And I wouldn't just be left missing my friend, I would be left brokenhearted. That was definitely not as easy to accept.

"Your dick is just fucking with you mind, Maxwell," I whispered to myself stubbornly.

Heero groaned in the bunk beneath mine. With groggy voice he asked: "Did you say something?"

"Sorry, I was only mumbling to myself."

He sighed. The sheets rustled as he appeared to turn around. After another soft sigh it seemed he had fallen asleep again.

The next morning, when he got up before sunrise for his daily run, I refrained myself from turning over to greedily stare at him changing his clothes in the soft light of the desk lamp. I needed to adopt the same strategy as Heero in approaching this arrangement between us: only sex, nothing else; giving into no other, peripheral desires. I needed to stop thinking with my dick long enough to be able to think with my head and realize nothing was going on: we were just friends-with-benefits.

In the next few days I completed my Art Nouveau assignment and handed it in mere minutes before the midnight deadline. It was always an embarrassment to race through the corridors for the professor's office in the dead of night, knowing the old man stayed up working late only for losers like myself who still hadn't learned their lesson about the consequences of procrastination. I felt sorry for the man and the other teachers and guidance counselors like him who had to put up with me and my equally disappointing peers, but I could hardly feel guilty. I prided myself on having come as far as I had, disimpassioned as I was about my studies. I didn't even want to be an architect – I wanted to be an artist – but it seemed like the responsible field to choose after having my submissions to art schools turned down; it was a relatively creative field, which was important to me, but what really swayed my father into letting me do it was the predicted employment growth over the next decade.

The responsible nature of it was probably precisely what put me off. I was more of a blow-in-the-wind kind of guy; the kind of guy who decides he wants to fuck his best friend on a whim. I wasn't the responsible type. On days like the day of the deadline I felt like a large, organic shape being forced into a small geometric mold; it was never going to fit without sacrificing distinctive bits and pieces of myself. So much sacrifice was needed that once the process was done, I would be unrecognizable. That scared me. I had been so busy worrying about losing Heero, that I hadn't even fully considered what my life would look like following graduation – although the prospect of losing Heero still felt like the deepest, most painful cut.

The need to focus on my assignment was the excuse I fed Heero when he tried to steer our purely platonic interactions towards something to serve an alternative purpose. I didn't intend to quit our arrangement, but I figured a short time of abstinence would detox me all the more quickly, getting these thoughts out of my head, and then things could resume the way I had grown fond of; sharing our bodies in pleasure – all but our lips.

I arranged a basketball game on the court with my other friends in spite of the biting cold. With my assignment completed I had to find other means to politely evade Heero for as long as it would take for my dick to stop sending the wrong signals to my brain and to my heart, confusing both.

I stole the ball from Obie – he wasn't on my team this time – and dribbled it across the court, but one of the other guys approached me from the right and stole the ball away from me. The overly ambitious player in the informal game made the mistake of wanting to score all by himself and was caught traveling. The ball was awarded back to my team.

"Don't slack off, Maxwell," Jested Obie as he circled me, "Your boyfriend is watching."

A look over my shoulder confirmed Heero had taken a seat on one of the benches overlooking the basketball court, a stack of books in his lap. Obie's comment didn't cause me concern, they always mocked our close friendship like that, but it was evident Heero was displeased by the remark. He was displeased even more so when Nash came walking up the path and although he had never taken an interest in sports, took a seat on the bench next to Heero to look at us.

Heero despised Nash. Nash knew that very well. Still remembering Nash's vow to make this year memorable – and knowing his idea of 'memorable' meant bad news for all of us -, I was suspicious of his intentions.

The game continued, but I kept stealing as many glances as I could. My best friend seemed to be dutifully ignoring the jester, but the currently orange haired young man was talking and laughing regardless, in an apparent attempt to provoke him.

Suddenly a thought struck me: Does he know?

Nash had never openly bullied Heero, nor I, but in this final, 'memorable' year, nobody was safe and he would need a very special, irresistible reason to take this kind of interest – to suffer the freezing cold of the steel-grate bench as the wind howled.

I froze in the middle of the game, paying no attention to the skirmish to possess the ball happening in the low post area of my side of the court. Heero looked upset and worried and when he looked my way and caught my gaze he quickly turned his eyes away; he couldn't stand the eye-contact.

My heart ached as it accepted, before my mind had even fully processed the severity of the situation, that it was the end of whatever it was between Heero and I. It would be over. I didn't mind other people knowing, but Heero wouldn't be able to stand it and he wouldn't be able to stand me anymore.

Nash got up and shot me a single, victorious look before walking away, practically skipping.

The bench didn't remain occupied for long, Heero sped off as well, towards the dorm buildings.

"I got to go, guys," I announced absentmindedly and already started for the gate in the chain link fence lining the worn court.

"What?" Called one of my teammates after me. "Duo, we're winning! You can't leave, we'll be an odd number!"

Obie strongly shoved him in the chest to shut him up. "Duo, is everything alright?"

"It'll be fine, I just got to go." I sprinted away, following the young man with the brightly colored hair that stood out like a beacon in the grey weather. "Nash!" I called.

He stopped and turned around, grinning at me. "How can I be of service to you?" He inquired formally once I had caught up with him.

"Don't tell anyone," I dumbly pleaded. I knew there would be no rationalizing with Nash when he was like that, it was like trying to talk a wild, hungry dog into giving you his bone.

"Don't worry, I won't say anything," He swore solemnly, but his cheeky grin alluded to a pitfall. "I'll show them."

My eyes widened with absolute shock. "Show them?"

"Well, what's the point of stealing a picture if you're only going to tell people about it and not show them?"

My eyes narrowed again as my brows furrowed heavily. "Wait, what?"

He scoffed, mistaking my confusion for me being coy. "You don't remember the picture?" He shook his head and chuckled. "Don't worry, your memory will be refreshed, chunky." He laughed and turned away.

"Chunky?" As I repeated the insult realization hit me; first with a wave of relief, then with a ton of bricks. "You stole the picture of me at fatcamp?"

He burst out laughing, hugging his belly. "Fatcamp?! Oh, the uniform! Now it makes sense! Dude, you looked fucking ridiculous."

I stalked over to him and prodded him in his chest with a stiff, angry finger. "You've been snooping in our room? You broke into our room?!"

"Woa, woa! I didn't break in. You guys both took a shower last night and left the door unlocked. The guys challenged me, I have my reputation as agent of chaos to uphold, after all."

"So you just decided to go through all our stuff?" I seethed, stepping forward to loom over him.

"I was going to, but under the bed was the first place I looked. Didn't really have to look any further." He quirked an eyebrow. "Or maybe I should have looked further? You weren't talking about the picture before, were you?" He asked curiously.

I gave him a powerful shove, he could barely keep standing. "Give it back."

"The original?" He snapped his fingers. "Done. It never left your room, I only took a picture of it," He quipped glibly. "You can have one of the hundred photocopies I made as well, if you wish. Of course I'm going to post the picture online, but you are such an illiterate where modern technology is concerned, I figured an old-fashioned approach was most gratifying. And really, at only five cents per copy it's a wise enough investment."

My nostrils flared with anger. I grabbed him by his jacket and pulled him towards me. "You are not going to show anyone that damn picture."

Only now realizing my anger was genuine, he frowned. "What's the big deal? So you were a fat kid, everyone can see times have changed. What does it matter?"

"It matters."

He struggled out of my grip, not a hard feat considering that regardless of how much I wanted to hurt him, I wouldn't let myself give into my rage. "Do I detect a childhood trauma?" He mocked. "Consider it exposure therapy, free of charge." He took that redundant psychology class, same as me. He flashed me a final smirk, then trotted off.

"Motherfucker…" I whispered.

I headed towards the dorm buildings, meaning to talk to Heero, but he wasn't in our room and I didn't know where else to find him. To pass the time I took a shower, making sure to lock the door of our room behind me this time. I had dodged a bullet to the heart, but still took one in the gut. I knew Nash was likely right, people would have a laugh at my expense for a couple of days – weeks if he managed to put a good spin on it to keep it alive – but I didn't look like that anymore and people probably wouldn't think of me differently, not significantly at least. But I would feel differently. After a while it weren't only the words of the bullies that hurt, I was so insecure I couldn't stand anybody looking at me, even those who probably never judged me for my weight. I didn't want to feel like that again.

But it was better than the alternative I momentarily feared; that he had found out about Heero and I. I would rather have everyone in the school look at me differently, than have Heero look at me differently.

When I got back up to our room my roommate still hadn't returned, so I waited for him impatiently, wondering why he had sped off and what he was up to. I worried Nash might have been too ambiguous in his teasing and that he might have made the same wrong interpretation as I had and still thought Nash knew about the two of us. I would have to set that straight as soon as he came back.

Later that evening the door opened and I was relieved to see him.

"Where have you been?" I demanded like a mother hen.

"Nowhere," He dismissed.

I decided to jump right in: "Nash found my fatcamp-picture."

"I know."

His calm reply clearly indicated that it didn't come as a surprise to him. I asked: "Why did you run off like that? What have you been doing for the past hour?" I checked my watch and corrected: "Almost two hours."

"Don't worry about it," He said coolly and stripped out of his sweatshirt that had gotten wet in the rain that had started to pour about half an hour ago. He put on a clean, dry shirt and remarked: "And you don't have to worry about that picture either."

My frown was deep. "Why?"

"He's not going to show anyone," Was his dry and curt reply.

"Why wouldn't he? You didn't threaten to kill him, did you? That you got you in quite a bit of trouble with the principal two years ago."

All he did was repeat himself: "Don't worry about it." It was clear he wasn't going to elaborate.

"Alright… fine…" I consented, although no less confused or curious. "But next time don't scare the Hell out of me. I thought you ran off because Nash found out about us or something."

His expression was grim. "We do have to be more careful next time. We have to lock that door at all times."

I nodded in agreement. Feeling a little deflated I sat down next to him and watched him flip through one of his thick, technical textbooks. I reached out and grabbed a pencil from the desk but only ended up toying with it. I didn't dare to give into my urge to start sketching him, that definitely wouldn't help me see things clearly, that would only make me focus on his golden complexion, his straight nose, his high cheekbones and his shapely lips.

After a while he looked up from his book and nodded at the pencil in my hand. "Shouldn't you do something with that other than twirl it between your fingers?"

"Why? I'm not an artist. I'm just an architect," I replied bitterly.

"Architects draw," He pointed out.

"Architects draw buildings. I don't want to draw buildings."

"What do you want to draw?"

Your face. "Stuff…"

He smiled sympathetically at my lost expression.

"Floor plans and load-bearing walls don't really inspire me," I continued with a pathetic, pouted lip.

"Maybe you should reconsider that summer art school program. Every year you talk about applying, but you never do."

I sighed and leaned back in the chair. "The last time I applied to art schools didn't turn out so great."

He looked at me with warm eyes, recognizing the bitter sadness in my voice at remembering all those rejections. "That was years ago. I think you've gotten better since."

I smiled at his attempt to cheer me up. I did stand a chance at getting accepted into a summer program, but only because the application process wasn't as strict and cut-throat. But I shook my head. "I don't want to. I want to spend the summer with you."

He pursed his lips. "But I'm leaving right after graduation. I thought I told you."

Maybe he did and I had naively chosen to ignore it. I asked dumbly: "Why?"

"Once school is done my dad isn't going to pay for anything anymore. And I have to go back and find a job as quickly as possible. My grandmother's health bills are only going to keep piling up."

The thought of leaving directly following graduation didn't even seem to upset him. He was so practical, he had everything so organized and compartmentalized. It was frustrating. It hurt a little. "Maybe I will apply to one of those summer programs," I shot back.

All he did was concur. "You should."

I bit my lip in frustration. It wasn't fair that I cared more than he did. I went to bed more than a little perturbed, still worried about the picture and angry at Heero for being so callous and seemingly fine with leaving me behind. I didn't get much sleep, a developing pattern that I didn't care for in the least. When I did manage to slip away I got sucked into a restless dream in which everyone called me "Maxwhale", the nasty nickname kids had called me throughout my younger years.

The next morning I got up without hurry. Heero might have believed he managed to convince Nash not to post copies of that unflattering picture all over the school and online, but most of the time Heero was a horrible judge of character and even less skilled at realizing when he was being tricked.

He came back from his morning run right as I was about to leave.

"You're late," I noted, glancing down at my watch.

"I don't have classes until noon."

"Heero, are you familiar with the concept of sleeping-in?" I deadpanned.

"Of course, I just don't support it." He grabbed the hem of his sweatshirt and lifted it up in preparation of his shower.

I looked away, but the sight of his sweat slicked, muscled abdomen and the low-riding thermal leggings was already burned into my retina. "I'll still see you at lunch?"

"Sure."

"Cool." Without looking at him again I stepped out of the room.

First I headed out for my morning coffee and only then did I brave the crowd of students making their way to class. As I walked down the hallway to auditorium B for a dull lecture on reimagining structural elements, I noted, with appropriate dread, a group of student had gathered around one of several message boards throughout the main university building. They were laughing and gasping with disbelief.

Initially I had every intention of ducking my head between my shoulders and trying to sneak past them unnoticed, but I realized a more sound strategy would be to pretend I didn't care and to join them in laughter.

I stood outside the circle and played dumb: "What's so funny?"

Some familiar faces turned around to look at me. One of them, a guy from my math class, remarked: "You don't want to see this, Maxwell."

"Sure I do," I argued bravely and I wormed my way through the gathered crowd of twenty or so students to come into view of the message board. I heard barely contained, gleeful snickers around me.

Tacked to the board – perfectly central – was a print-out of an old, poor quality photo, but the image was not the one I had been expecting and the students around me laughed at my shocked expression.

"Some things can't be unseen," Joked the guy from my math class.

At first glance, rather than a young, fat kid in a beige uniform, leaning uncomfortably against a centuries old redwood tree, the picture was one of a young girl – approximately ten years old – wearing a frilly dress and a summer hat held in place with a neat, pink bow tied underneath her chin. But the first glance was deceiving.

"Oh my God," I uttered as realization dawned on me.

There was no mistaking the furious cobalt blue eyes.

It was the picture Heero shamefully mentioned when I showed my fatcamp-photo; of him forced to dress up as a girl for a school play.

"Do you think this picture will make Relena love him more or less?" A girl wondered, causing laughter to erupt.

"She'll be envious of the dress for sure. Such a pretty, pink bow."

I reached out and ripped the picture off the wall, to the dismay of the people around me.

"There really no point to that, there are copies all over the school and on pretty much every social media site."

I only glared at them and walked away, holding the picture pressed against my chest, over a wildly beating heart.

"You're going to miss the lecture!" Someone called after me.

I didn't care about the lecture to begin with, but I certainly didn't care then.

Back at our dorm room Heero was half-dressed in jeans and a plain, grey T-shirt, walking around barefoot, rubbing his hair dry with the towel draped over his shoulders. When I stormed through the door he looked perplexed, not understanding what the commotion was about.

I turned around the piece of paper I had carried with me, to show him why I was so shocked.

He chewed the inside of his cheek upon seeing the image, but after a short while he shrugged and picked up one end of the towel in one hand to further dry his dark mop of hair.

"I don't understand," I blurted. "What did you do?"

"I offered Nash a fair trade," Was his casual explanation.

My face contorted into one giant question mark.

"After Nash so cockily taunted me with the fact that he was going to humiliate you, I went back to our room to get that picture of me. Then I went looking for him and when I found him I offered to exchange your picture for mine. I even made the damn copies for him."

"But everyone is seeing this, right now," I shook the paper to emphasize my point.

"It doesn't matter," He assured me. "It's worth it."

"Worth it?"

"I didn't want to see you get hurt."

I stared at him. After a long time I stepped forward, intending to kiss him, but I stopped myself. For me, kissing him felt like the right, appropriate thing to do to convey my feelings, but I knew Heero would not let me break this rule.

He quirked an eyebrow at me, not being privy to my inner conflict.

I still decided to close the distance between us to give him a grateful hug. I whispered in his hair: "You're a pretty amazing friend." I snorted at my own understatement. "I don't know how to thank you." There was no guarantee Nash would never display that picture or use it against me, but the fact that Heero protected me eased away my concern that he might have stopped caring about me since the start of our arrangement and with his impending departure. I tightened my arms around him, burying my nose in his wayward hair that smelled of his cheap shampoo, a plain though not unpleasant scent. It felt good to have him pressed up against me. In spite of our physical activities we didn't hug a lot and it didn't seem like the manly thing to do, but it felt right.

He melted into the embrace, tucking his head under my chin, practically nuzzling his nose against my chest. His fingers interlocked behind my back and he heavily and comfortably leaned into me.

An undeniable peace and calm settled in my mind. I was happy being with him, happy in a way that I had never been before and happy in a way that I couldn't imagine ever being again without him. Was that true friendship or was that love? I didn't bother with questions of the sort in that moment, instead enjoying and cherishing the simple pleasure of holding him.

The embrace wasn't a sexual thing to me, not until Heero communicated otherwise. The lock of his hands released and one hand trailed down, slowly and sensually. When it moved back up the hem of my shirt got caught on his fingers and I shuddered favorably as the long, cool digits ran back up, following the curve of the spine.

I tilted my head down and saw him looking up at me innocently. I smirked and moved both my hands down his back as well, but not being as subtle as he was, I placed both hands over his behind and squeezed the round cheeks, effectively grinding his hips against mine.

The innocence was swept off his features, replaced by a blush, hooded eyes and temptingly parted lips. He redirected his hands to my front, pulling his upper body slightly away from me to let his hands freely roam over my shirt before they unceremoniously pushed up the fabric and he leaned forward to kiss my chest, a kind of intimate attention he had never paid to me before.

I sucked in air at the feel of his soft lips placing open-mouthed kisses on my heated skin and one of his hands cheekily moving down to cup the growing bulge between my legs.

Just as I was about to reach for his private parts, he jerked back suddenly. "The door-"

I cut off his sentence by roughly pushing him back until his back connected with said door. While I leaned into him, I quickly turned the lock before returning that hand to his body. I greedily kissed his neck, his jaw and his ears as I rocked into him. We gasped and moaned in unison at the straightforward friction. I took his shirt off him and then raised my arms to let him rid me of my sweater. Then I promptly knelt down in front of him and started work on unbuttoning his jeans and peeling the denim down his long legs. "Do you want me to get the lube?" I looked up at him. He knew what I was really asking.

"Yes," He breathed eagerly.

I got up and retrieved the tube. When I turned back around I saw Heero had pulled the same trick as the last time; turning around so we wouldn't be face to face. I came to stand behind him, put my hands on his hips and gently tried to turn him around, but he wouldn't budge, instead shooting a warning glare over his shoulder. I prepared him quickly. I didn't know when I could stop doing that, but I knew it was better to be safe than sorry. The tube of lube I carelessly threw onto the bed once I poured a liberal amount straight onto my member. I put my slick hands on his hips, having him angle them a little, and breathed heavily in his ear when I asked: "Are you ready?"

He could only nod and then, once I had pushed inside him in a single thrust, he could only moan.

I took my time building up to a slow rhythm, keeping my chest pressed against his back and my mouth near his ear to kiss him and nip at him teasingly. We were both getting sweaty but to me it only added to the eroticism. "You're going to have to take yet another shower after this," I remarked with a breathy chuckle, picking up the pace slightly.

"Nnn, I'll never be clean."

I suckled on a spot of skin on his neck, though taking care not to leave a hickey, although I wanted to. I sped up a little more, drawing more moans from his lips. "Does it feel good?"

He groaned, unable to speak.

I bit down on his earlobe a little more harshly than maybe I confessed candidly: "I want to see your face as I fuck you."

"No," He grunted in reply.

"I need to see your face," I rephrased.

"No, it's embarrassing."

If that was his sole reason than I felt it was my duty as his friend to cure him of his embarrassment. Without warning I pulled out of him and forced him to turned around.

He glared at me although the stare lacked its usual intimidating viciousness considering how clouded with passion his eyes were.

I bent forward to take one nipple into my mouth while I also took his hard dick into my hand.

"Please, let's just do it like we have been doing it," He pleaded with a deep-red hue on his cheekbones.

I straightened back up and leaned my forehead against his. "No, either we do it face-to-face, or we don't do it."

He bit his lower lip and let out a groan.

"Please…"

"The no-kissing rule still applies," He reminded me sternly.

"I know. I just want to see you face."

He sighed. Momentarily he looked deeply into my eyes and I worried he would say no, but then he started: "How do you propose we do this?"

Enthusiastically I grabbed his thighs and lifted him up off the floor.

Heero yelped.

Sandwiched between me and the door he instinctively wrapped his legs around my hips and rather than placing his hands on my shoulders for support, he extended his right arm to grab the foot of the top bunk and with his left hand he took hold of the coat-hook on the wall behind the door. With his weight sufficiently supported I could take one hand off his thigh to guide the head of my erection back to his entrance. It was wonderful slipping back into him, he was slick, stretched and heated and it felt like I was being welcomed back inside. I kept my gaze affixed to his features. Heero refused to meet my eyes, instead focusing his gaze somewhere behind me, through the window perhaps. I made the first, tentative thrust and was pleased to see he was so overcome with pleasure he had to fight to keep his eyes open. I started fucking him unapologetically, unable to resist the carnal urges any longer. With a whisper I begged him to look at me and I moaned deep in my throat when he obliged and I could look into his endless, blue eyes.

It was more difficult not to give into the desire to kiss him, in that position, with his lips so close to mine, but I managed.

His hot breath washed over my face as he panted. He stared into me and I realized that it was the most intimate connection we could ever achieve, even more so than the uniting of our bodies. And I presumed even more so than locking our lips, so I was content.

With one hand still underneath him to support some of his weight, I used the other to stroke his erection.

He momentarily closed his eyes and moaned freely.

"Ohh, yeah baby, you like that?"

His eyes flew open at the nickname.

"Sorry," I breathed, but I smirked.

His eyes soon softened while I continued jerking him off and thrusting into him powerfully. He let out a shaky breath and announced: "I'm going to come."

I only grunted in response and sped up the rhythm of my hips and my hand on his cock, wanting to bring him to orgasm, wanting to see it on his face and in his eyes. "Keep looking at me," I growled, when it seemed like he was about to shut his eyes in pleasure.

"Are you close?"

My only answer was a curt nod. Very close.

"I'm so close… Please, fuck me harder."

With a snap of my hips I instantly obliged and on the fourth inward thrust I felt him tighten around me and I felt his warm semen on my hand. His mouth was open with a subdued moan – keeping in mind that the door wasn't very thick. His eyes were half closed, the cobalt blue appeared several shades darker, but warmer, somehow.

First he let go of the coat-hook and wrapped that arm around my neck, then his other hand released the footboard of the top bunk and he wrapped that arm tightly around me as well. He rested his head on my shoulder.

I didn't have to wait long for my own completion. I moaned into his ear when it overcame me and I felt truly sated and content when I felt him placing light kisses on my sweaty skin and raised his head to lightly bite on the shell of my ear. Unfortunately he stopped when he realized he probably shouldn't do that, since it was 'only about the sex', after all.

Carefully I lowered him until his feet were on the floor. I straightened back up and noted I felt weak and shaky all over. Heero also appeared to be unsteady, leaning back against the door for support.

With a crooked grin he deadpanned: "I guess you've found a way to thank me."

I chuckled sheepishly. I approached him again and with a slight touch to his hip I urged him to turn his back to me. I pressed myself against him, leisurely kissing the back of his neck and nuzzling his hair, elated that he let me. Feeling cheeky I briefly inserted two fingers into him. He was full and slick with my semen and it made me crazy possessive. I bit down on the juncture between his neck and his shoulder and he let out a single, startled laugh.

"That's going to leave a mark!" He chastised.

"Hmhm…" I soothed the spot with my tongue. I felt him shiver and I dared to think it was a good sign.

"I don't like that you've reduced me to this basic creature of need and desire, so much so that I willingly let you sodomize me like this," He softly confessed. Yet in spite of his words I didn't get the impression that he disliked it all that much.

"Please, don't think of it like that. It's nothing like that," I begged. It wasn't just basic need, it wasn't sodomy, those words didn't do justice to what it was – what it was to me at least.

"Then what is it?"

After some contemplation I replied: "I don't know."

It wasn't love. I wasn't in love. I couldn't be. More importantly: I shouldn't be.


	15. Chapter 15

**Thousand Words**

**_Fifteen_ **

He knew what he wanted and he certainly knew that I wasn't going to deny him, but what he didn't know was that matters weren't as clear for me as they were for him. And how could he possible know? I gladly fucked him at every given opportunity; which was nearly daily. Yes, Heero knew what he wanted and he wasn't going to let his shame hold him back anymore. He was bold and demanding and while I loved it, I recognized it still wasn't enough for me. But I was going to take everything he was willing to offer me and not ruin things by voicing the questions that preoccupied me.

As weeks flew by the sex never got dull or boring, it was amazing every single time, especially since there were very few limitations left. The only rule still in place was the no-kissing rule. We did it face to face more often than not and I dared to think it was because he enjoyed it just as much as I did, although he would never be forthcoming in that regard. The first time he rode me was particularly memorable. I lay flat on my back on the coarse carpet of our dorm room and Heero straddled me, enthusiastically moving his body up and down and rolling his hips, his own erection bouncing until he took hold of it to bring himself to completion in time with my orgasm. It was incredible to see him pleasure himself like that on my dick; unashamed and unapologetic.

I couldn't get enough of him, I couldn't stop touching him and I couldn't stop looking at him. It was a thrill knowing that I didn't have to. There was no point in trying otherwise. I could touch him whenever I wanted and have him melt at my touch and I could look at him as long as I wanted, getting nothing more than a half-hearted glare that didn't deter me in the least and probably wasn't even meant to discourage me. At that point I was pretty confident Heero loved the sex as much as I did and he didn't want it to end, but of course he didn't know that it wasn't just sex to me, if he did he might not have been so eager to continue doing it.

The school body quickly forgot about the pictures of Heero's younger self in a dress, but I didn't. I would always remember and it cemented what I already knew, that Heero was the most special friend I had ever had and with my growing feelings for him I had to consider that the term 'friend' didn't fully cover my affections for him anymore. But that was difficult because even if it did turn out I wanted him to be more to me, I had little faith Heero would oblige. It was pretty clear our physical interactions were strictly sexual gratification to him, nothing more and everything else between us was comfortably covered by the umbrella-term 'friendship', as far as he was concerned.

I had to stop thinking about us being more than friends and what that would mean, because it would never happen. Heero wasn't gay, he kept saying as much, who was I to question his self-judgment?

"How does Earth look such a great distance?"

I blinked at the sudden question and my eyes focused on Heero sitting across from me at the large table in the library study room, a bemused expression on his face. "You looked so far away, I figured your mind must have drifted into outer space," He explained.

"I'm right here and I don't plan on going anywhere."

He scoffed at my cheesy retort.

Deciding to be partially honest with him, I said: "I was thinking about last week. When you were on top of me."

He blushed instantly. "Jesus, Duo."

I smirked. "Now you're thinking about it too," I pointed out after a pause, watching his expression as he tried to redirect his attention to his studies.

A grin formed on his lips although he tried to hide it, biting down on his lower lip.

"Do you ever really want to be on top?" I questioned. "Like… Well, you know what I mean."

"Maybe at some point," He replied with a shrug, "But I'm not in any hurry to see things changed." His eyes shone with mischief.

I leaned forward, staring at him hungrily. "Because you love having my cock deep inside you?" I whispered.

His face went red and instead of a clever reply only a pathetic whimper came out of his mouth.

I chuckled and sat back in my chair, toying suggestively with my pencil, paying no more attention to the work in front of me.

"Stop trying to get me horny, I have to finish this." He stubbornly leaned over his work and practically buried his nose in his book to keep him from looking up at me again.

Knowing that he had a presentation the next day that he had to prepare for, I didn't push matters further. I reached under the table and readjusted my half-hard member to make myself more comfortable and continued the sketch I had been working on for the past two hours. I had an appointment at the Columbus College of Art and Design next weekend to follow-up on my application for their summer program. I wanted to add to my recent body of work, to show them I was still passionate about art and that my creativity hadn't been dulled by the years of boring classes and dry, technical study material. Although, in truth, I was having such a hard time creating a drawing I was pleased with I had to admit that years of drawing buildings and focusing more on functionality and cost than any artist should ever bother himself with, I hadn't really developed my skills for organic and dynamic art.

I stared down at the paper, feeling like I had sold my soul.

But who was I kidding? I was never good at 'real art' anyway, not good enough at least, as was made abundantly clear by every art school rejecting my admission.

With an exasperated sigh I closed my sketchbook and starting packing up my things.

Heero looked up at me curiously. "Did you finish? Can I see it?"

"It's just another stupid landscape. It's nothing special," I grumbled in defeat, stuffing things into my bag.

Heero recognized my sour mood but didn't know how to cheer me up, he had tried and failed several times over the past few weeks.

"I shouldn't have applied!" I suddenly berated myself aloud, letting my shoulders slump. "I submitted such infantile work, I bet they're all laughing at me."

"Duo-"

"Don't," I interrupted. "I'm going to go find some of the guys, see if we can get a basketball game going. I'll see you later, okay?" I flung the strap of my bag over my shoulder and walked out of the study room with large strides.

Real life – after college - seemed so unimportant most of the time I was with Heero, but once in a while it got the better of me. A rude awakening, reminding me that all the hardship I've encountered in the past would pale in comparison to what's ahead. There was nothing about my future that excited me, I felt like I would be stepping into a thick mist in which everything was grey and muted and I would be lost in it forever.

Such depressing thoughts might warrant a visit to the guidance counselor's office, but they didn't really like me over there since I slept with the student volunteer and she apparently spread some pretty nasty rumors about me.

I couldn't find anyone to play basketball with me, everyone was either in class or not interested because some of their buddies wouldn't be joining. So, like the secretly pathetic loner that I was, I shot some hoops by myself in the slight drizzle of rain, feeling grossly sorry for myself. The moment I had been working towards for four years was drawing near and all I wanted was to press pause. And I would lying if I claimed that it didn't mostly have to do with Heero.

I loved him ,whether I only loved him as a friend or loved him as something more I was hesitant to decide on, but it was clear that I did love him, in an all-encompassing kind of way. I didn't care about anything or anyone but him. My whole being evolved around him; my thoughts, my feelings. It was a pitiful truth. Pitiful because in a matter of months he would be gone and then what was I supposed to do with myself? Find happiness becoming the architect I never really wanted to be? Find myself a new best friend?

I kept shooting the ball and it kept bouncing off the backboard or rolling off the hoop.

"You can do better than that."

I looked over and saw Obie standing on the other side of the chain link fence surrounding the court. "I'm kind of off my game." I took another shot and it was another miss. It was embarrassing. "Are you done for the day?"

"No, I'm on my way to my last class. And going over to Jenny's parents for dinner," He made a telling face.

I chuckled sympathetically.

"Soo…" He drawled hesitantly and stuffed his hands in the pockets of his coat. "If I tell you I've been worrying about you, you're going to tell me to quit being a baby and that you're totally fine, right?"

I smiled. "Yup."

"Cool. Then I guess I won't say anything."

We stared at each other for a while. "Weren't you headed for class?" I asked bemused.

"You know, last time you were shooting hoops by yourself things had just gone down with Hilde and you never talked to your Chinese friend again."

I dribbled the ball, stalling. "I'm fine, Obie, quit being a baby."

"Right. Okay."

I watched him go, absentmindedly tossing the basketball from one hand to the other and back again. Great, I thought, having another good friend whom I lost contact with mentioned didn't make me feel any better about losing Heero in the near future.

"Fuck this shit." I went back to the dorm building, took a shower and had a pizza delivered and then headed for work. I was displeased to find I had to work alongside my least favorite co-worker, Martin, but at least the dull guy kept to himself, allowing me moments of quiet thoughts in between serving non-alcoholic beverages – it was junior-night and the crowd was under twenty-one. The tips weren't as good when people remained sober as the night dragged on, but I also didn't have to deal with the nuisance of drunk patrons and the freshman girls were cute and all over me and I enjoyed entertaining them, even though I had come to realize I wasn't interested in them the way they probably wanted me to be. I should practically be in the university folder as part of the sightseeing tour with my internationally known family and my locally famous three foot long braid of hair. It was nice to flirt with them, it made the girls giggle so I assumed it pleased them and it made me feel like my old self again, before I had to worry about the downside of graduation and figure out whether or not I had accidentally fallen in love with my male best friend. It took me back to simpler times and that wasn't a bad thing.

When everyone had cleared the bar I told Martin to mop the floor – a kind of meaningless authority I had earned, working at the on-campus bar since my freshman year – and assigned myself to cleaning the glasses and rearranging the bottles of liquor.

There was a knock on the glass door and my co-worker begrudgingly announced we were closed – in a 'fuck off' tone of voice. There was another knock, more persistent this time. I looked up from my task and smiled when I saw Heero glaring at Martin.

The red-headed student looked back at me. "It's your friend…" He stated dumbly.

"I can see that."

"He can't come in here after closing."

Such a stickler for the rules, that's why nobody liked working with Martin. "Don't tell me. Tell him."

He looked at Heero through the glass pane and I was pretty sure I could hear him swallow. Heero's dangerous glare had been unrelenting. "I'm afraid," The part-time bartender admitted.

"Then you'd better let him in here and hurry back to your dorm."

He propped the mop against one of the tables and moved to open the door to let in the late guest. As Heero stepped inside, Martin snuck out and left with quickened pace.

"Run, Forest! Run!" I called after him.

"I hate him," My friend announced, closing the door behind him.

"You hate everyone."

After a thoughtful pause he agreed. He picked up the mop and continued cleaning the floor.

"You're supposed to say I'm the exception."

"Sometimes you are," He shot back with a smirk. "Sometimes not so much."

"Did you only just leave the library?"

"No, I went back to the dorm first, took a shower." He carried the heavy bucket to the bar to dump the water in the sink. He flinched when I surprised him by coming to stand behind him, pressing myself against his back. His gaze darted towards the many windows suspiciously. "Duo… don't."

With a surrendering sigh I detached myself from him, even as I noticed he was pressing back against me, clearly subconsciously enjoying my embrace.

"I told you we have to be more careful, with Nash snooping around the way he is." He reminded me: "You agreed."

"I know, but sometimes it's hard to resist the urge. I didn't just 'take a shower'."

"Excuse me?" He retorted coyly.

"Oh, come on. You took a shower this morning after your run. All you did today was study, why would you take another shower, knowing you'll be running and showering again first thing tomorrow morning?" I challenged, putting my hands on my hips defiantly.

"You don't know me," He argued, but he knew the contrary was true. His slight blush and the fact that he had to look away confirmed I had been right about him taking a shower as an excuse to masturbate.

Satisfied with my victory I finished cleaning up with a smirk while Heero waited, then we went back to our dorm room. Even though it was late and even though I had showered before heading off to work, I meaningfully announced I was going to take a shower and in the stall I did exactly what I knew he was thinking of me doing.

The next day I had lunch by myself in the study room. Heero's presentation was in another faculty building across town and he wouldn't be back until later that afternoon. To fight the boredom I suffered in his absence I gave into an urge that I had been denying since the first time I saw him – lying in the top bunk he had claimed, glaring at me, making me marvel at the exquisite design of his features, like a beautifully composed piece of art – I started to draw him. I had been toting around that sketchpad with little result ever since I finalized my application for the summer program. Only knowing he was far away and I wouldn't be caught by him doing that, allowed me to start sketching his face. It was uncanny how well I knew the intensity of his eyes, the fall of his hair, the symmetry of his nose and even the shape of his lips although I had never been allowed to intimately familiarize myself with them. I didn't even have to close my eyes, I saw him on the page before the shapes were defined by my pencil.

Two hours later I realized I had missed my afternoon lecture on corporate design but staring back at me in shades of grey was my best friend, his expression open and genuine – the way only I had seen it –, a hint of a smile tugging at one corner of his lips, his hair a calculated mess. It felt like a relief to have finally drawn him. It had been so easy and effortless, unlike those boring landscapes and still lifes I had been struggling with that took up most pages of the sketchbook.

I packed up my things and headed for the final class of the day. I felt a little embarrassed and vulnerable walking around the school with a drawing of Heero in my bag, it was oddly intimate .

By the time Heero came back late at night, much later than I had expected him to be back, I had completed two more drawings of him, if anything even more intimate and… incriminating. I slammed my sketchbook shut and repositioned myself in a flurry of movement to make it seem like I had been studying, when he stepped into our dorm room unannounced.

"Hey." I cleared my throat and observed innocently: "You're late."

"The professor invited us to join him for dinner and drinks.'

I swiveled around in the desk chair and quirked an eyebrow at him. "The teacher took you out?"

"A whole group of us," He defended, "It's nothing like what you are implying."

I reached out and grabbed his hips, pulling him towards me. "Should I be jealous?"

"Why would you be jealous?" He questioned dumbly.

Because you're mine, I thought possessively.

"Why is your sketchbook on the floor?" He thought to ask and he bent down to pick it up.

In my hurry I must have accidentally pushed it off the desk, I thought, mortified as he held it in his hands. When he started to leaf through it I snatched it from him. "I just got frustrated with it, so I threw it across the room."

"You should be more careful with it, what I saw was really good."

What he didn't saw was better, but regardless, he wouldn't like it. "It's not. It's crap."

He chuckled. "You know, for an upbeat person you are deceptively pessimistic."

I tossed my sketchbook onto the bed. "Care to cheer me up?" He knew exactly what I meant.

Playing hard to get he stepped back and he remarked: "I don't know. I'm really tired."

"It's been two days…" I pointed out in a pathetic whine. It had been the longest we had gone without since I pushed him up against the door over three weeks ago. I couldn't get enough of it and I had grown pretty confident that neither could he.

Without a word he headed for the door and I was worried he was going to walk out the room for whatever reason – I was already racking my brain for what I had said or done wrong to offend him and cause him to walk away -, but a smirk tugged at my lips when I heard the click of the lock and he spun back around.

I gave into the overwhelming satisfaction that I felt and grinned for ear to ear. I watched closely as he stalked back towards me, a pensive look on his face. "Why do you look so serious?"

"I'm thinking."

"About what?"

"About what I want."

"Shouldn't it be about what I want?" I teased. "You are doing this to cheer me up, remember?"

"I'm sure that whatever I decide on, you will be plenty cheery in the end. But if you have any objections, I'll take them under advisement." It appeared he had decided and with a mischievous look he knelt down in front of me and let his hands travel up my thighs before unabashedly placing his right hand over my groin. His left hand pushed up my shirt and he leaned forward to plant a kiss on the exposed skin, just above the hem of my black jeans.

"Hmmm… I have no objections to that, your honor." We had been so caught up in exploring the substantial benefits of anal sex that I hadn't felt his mouth on my dick in a couple of weeks and I hadn't realized how much I had missed his mouth around me until that moment.

"It's been a while…" He noted absentmindedly, his hot breath spreading on my abdomen as he continued to place open-mouthed kisses.

"Yeah…" I moaned needily in return. I shifted slightly to get a little more comfortable, slouching in the seat with my legs spread so he could kneel between them.

Second-guessing himself Heero pulled back and wondered: "Is it weird?"

I reached out and put my hand on the back of his neck, urging him forward again. Thankfully, it took little to persuade him. "No, it's great." I leaned my head back and heaved a relieved and pleasurable sigh when he started to massage me through my jeans. Eager as I was, it didn't take long for my body to respond and for my jeans to be straining around my erection. When all Heero and I were doing was exchanging blowjobs, I wanted nothing more but to fuck him – and I got what I wanted – so I didn't expect to be quite so greedy to have him suck me off again, but I was.

He opened my fly and worked my dick out of my underwear, not bothering to get the clothing out of the way more than he absolutely had to. I stared at him with lust-filled eyes as he paused and seemed to appreciate my manhood.

"Do it," I begged ardently.

He did. And he didn't just give me a blowjob the way I remembered it from before, he worshipped my dick. On top of that it was apparent he was enjoying himself, I tilted my head so I could see him touching himself through his jeans. The fact that he was enjoying it so much easily made it the best blowjob I had ever gotten. "Do you love my cock?" The word 'love' was pretty strong and I regretted it as soon as I said it, but when he made no objections and instead moaned deep in his throat, a shudder rippled through me and goosebumps appeared all over my body.

I stroked my hand through his hair, lovingly as opposed to demandingly or urgently, in spite of what we were doing. As good as it felt I wished I could get him to straighten up and let me kiss him. At that point I was starting to believe in the possibility that his mouth on mine would feel even better than his mouth on my cock.

Torn between wanting to come in his mouth and not wanting this to be over but instead doing more, I decided: "I don't want to come yet."

With a final flick of his tongue along the head of my erection – as if to challenge my decision – he sat back on his haunches. In the meantime he didn't stop rubbing his palm over the bulge between his legs.

I let out a breathy chuckle. I got up and took off my jeans and underwear before sitting down next to him on the floor. I was painfully hard but determined to drive him as wild with pleasure as he had me before this encounter would come to an end. I kissed his neck and nipped at his ear while my hand insistently massaged his thigh. I noticed the wetness of saliva on his chin and swiped my thumb across it to clean him up. Taking hold of his jaw I pulled his face closer to mine, only stopping once our noses bumped into each other. "I hate the no-kissing rule."

He wasn't shocked by my quiet confession. "I know you do."

"Please…" I placed my hand on the front of his jeans, feeling his hard manhood through the fabric and grabbing at the clothed shaft as best I could, as if a little more stimulation would convince him to give into my desire to kiss him. If it was that easy, I knew we would have lip-locked a long time ago.

"No."

"Why not? Weren't you going to cheer me up?"

"We can't kiss, Duo. It's the only way for us to stay in control of this thing. It's our reality check."

I noticed that he didn't say he didn't want to kiss, but I knew better than to point that out to him. It would surely blow up in my face. I titled my head to place a chaste kiss on his cheek and then pushed him down onto the carpet and undressed him, taking off my own shirt as well so we were both fully naked. I lay down between his legs, resting my torso on top of him. While I kissed and nuzzled his neck I jerked him off, Heero responded by making slight thrusts into my hand. His hands roamed over my back and occasionally tugged on my braid, his hot kisses burned on my shoulder. Eventually he wrapped his legs around mine, making it clear to me he wanted me to proceed.

"You have to let go of me so I can get the lube from the closet," I remarked with a chuckle but his legs only gripped me more tightly.

"Can't you just use spit or something?" He didn't want to let go of me.

"I guess. Are you sure?"

He nodded.

Engaging in sex as often as we did at that point I didn't prepare him every time anymore, but since I would be going in without proper lubrication I thought it would be most comfortable not to skip some quick stretching. Devilishly I put my index and middle finger against his lips. "Make these wet for me."

He stared up at me defiantly for a moment before obliging, in the interest of speed, rather than telling me to do it myself. He took the fingers deep into his mouth and sucked on them for a little bit before letting them out with a pop.

Using my slick fingers I quickly got him ready, studying his features as I did. I spit into my hand a couple of times and then rubbed my saliva over my manhood.

The entry was a little more rough than we had gotten used to, but even though there was pain observable on Heero's face, he made no complaints and his moans quickly became favorable when I slowly started to move.

"Does that feel good, baby?" I inquired as I kept the pace agonizingly slow.

The nickname didn't even bother him anymore. In between moans he answered: "Yes."

"Does it still hurt?"

"Not in a bad way."

I groaned and buried my face into the crook of his neck. "You're driving me crazy."

"And what of you? Going maddeningly slow like this?" Heero muttered into my hair. Suddenly he rolled us over with his powerful thighs so I was on my back and he was straddling me. He looked down at me smugly. He took charge as he had been displeased with the rhythm I had set. He enthusiastically moved his hips up and down, moaning freely. He had one hand behind him, splayed on my thigh, with the other he caressed his own chest, focusing on his nipples. Sometimes he would look down at me, his eyes dark with passion.

After a while of simply enjoying the view I sat up, bringing my arms around his waist, kissing and licking his chest as he continued to ride me with fervor. When I wrapped my hand around his erection I felt him tense.

He started: "No, wait-" He tightly wrapped his arms around me and a keening cry erupted out of him.

I felt his warm semen spilling onto my hand. It took me by surprise, I hadn't realized he was so close to climax.

His cheeks were bright red, clearly his premature release embarrassed him.

"It's okay… It's okay…" I couldn't help but chuckle at his pathetic whimper. With my hands on his hips I held him still and I placed soft kisses on his face. Once the intensity of his orgasm had waned I flipped us over again, so he was on his back on the floor and I lay on top of him. I pulled out of him and knelt between his spread legs, maneuvering one to lay the calf over my shoulder. With the hand slick with his come I urgently started jerking myself off. I stared into his clouded eyes as he stared right back and I came swiftly, droplets of the milky-white fluid landed on his tight abdomen and heaving chest.

Spent I collapsed to the floor, next to him. We were both panting harshly and staring up at the ceiling. Minutes past and our breathing had quieted before he spoke.

"Holy cumshot, batman."

I let out a single chuckle. "You always get to come on me, I figured I should get to shoot my load on you for a change."

"And did you like it?"

I turned onto my side to look at him. The drops of my come glistened on his torso and I felt like I had just planted an American flag in the surface of the moon. "Hell yeah."

He snorted at my answer and then sat up with a groan. He reached for a shirt – his or mine I couldn't tell – which he used to clean himself off, before throwing it in my face.

I laughed and whipped him playfully with the fabric and then rubbed myself clean with it as well, smiling up at him mischievously as I recognized it was his shirt. He got up from the floor and I stared shamelessly at his naked body, fascinated by the movement of the strong muscles underneath the smooth, glowing skin. He headed for the closet and I asked: "Going to take another shower?"

"Fuck it," He replied as he stepped into a clean pair of underwear, "I'll shower tomorrow after my run."

I jumped to my feet and came to stand right in front of him. Heero backed up until his back connected with the closet and I loomed over him. I buried my nose in his messy hair and took a deep breath. "You'll smell of sex all night."

"Someone actually told me I smell pretty good after sex," He quipped.

I moaned into his mop of hair. "You do…"

He laughed it off and pushed me away. "Quit joking around, I wasn't lying when I said I was tired." He took my sketchbook off his bed, placing it on the desk almost reverently, then he climbed onto the mattress and wrapped himself in his sheets, settling with his back towards me.

I slumped down in the desk chair where I had been seated when he came home and I thumbed the corner of my sketchbook. With a nervous flutter in my chest I started: "Hey Heero?"

"Hm?"

"Do you have any plans for this weekend?"

He sighed. "Yeah, I'm super busy."

I bit my lip, my heart fell. I had intended to ask him to come with me to my interview for the summer program, I had wanted him to come along since I applied, but I had been too afraid to ask.

He continued matter-of-factly: "I'm going to Columbus this weekend. My friend has some sort of interview or whatever at an art school."

I smiled. "Are you serious?"

"Yes. You're paying though."

I nodded excitedly. "Thanks, Heero."

"It's not a big deal."

It was a big deal to me.

Recognizing that what had been a pretty amazing night was over I dressed myself in appropriate sleepwear and headed for bed as well, flicking off the light after I had climbed into the top bunk.

My nerves grew stronger as the weekend neared. I was a jittery mess at Heero's competitive swim meet on Friday, completely forgetting to cheer even as his opponents were struggling far behind him in his wake on the two longer distances. Luckily Heero never held that kind of stuff against me. He knew I had a lot on my mind – although he didn't even know half of it.

Last minute, Saturday morning, I made arrangements for a cheap hotel room in Columbus, figuring that we wouldn't want to head back the same day considering it was a four hour trip by train. I surfed the web for bus routes to the art institute and nearby restaurants, raising my eyebrow when I came across a few club suggestions, one of them a gay club. It was an entertaining idea but I knew it would be fruitless to push my luck to that extent.

We were at the train station at eight o'clock in the morning, waiting for the train, both of us with a shoulder bag with a change of clothes and some toiletries and of course I had my portfolio and my sketchbook with me. Heero had even gone out for his morning run beforehand, whereas I was having trouble just to keep standing, which was why I quickly squeezed myself into a free spot on one of the benches, sandwiched between a couple of old ladies and a nun. Heero stood before me, smiling at me, his hands casually in his pockets. In my tired state I found myself unable to prevent myself from staring at his crotch. My face was hot and probably beet red as it dawned on me I was entertaining homoerotic fantasies with two grandma's to my right and a nun to my left.

The train arrived and we found a quiet spot in the back, sitting close together in the small second-class seats. Our shoulders, arms and legs rubbed together when the train, at times, swayed from side to side. Heero didn't seem to mind and I sure as hell didn't mind it either.

My hands lay in my lap. My palms were sweaty, I wiped them constantly. Part of me wanted to get out at the next stop and go back, that would certainly be easier. I hadn't put my art on the spot like that since I applied to art schools four years ago and had my hopes and dreams crushed. Would rejection really be any less bad this time around because it was just a summer program? Wouldn't it hurt all the more knowing that after all those years I still wasn't good enough to even get into a summer program?

Heero could probably read the despair in my eyes and see me chewing on the inside of my cheek. "Nervous?"

"Fuck yeah." I snorted. "I feel like I have to pee all the time." My sharp intake of breath was audible as Heero suddenly reached out and grabbed one of my hands that lay splayed on my thigh.

Momentarily he interlocked our fingers. I was embarrassed because he would feel how wet my hands were but he didn't judge me for it. "It's going to be okay."

I didn't think hearing those words would make me feel any better, but to hear him say them was an immediate relief and even though I had no increased confidence in my own artistic success, I believed that whatever would happen, it would be okay. He would be there to pick up the pieces. And that was the difference between now and back then.

He placed my hand back in my lap and turned his head to look out the window, watching the landscape blur as we sped through it.

I stared at him, feeling something warm, light and excited in my chest. A kind of happiness I had never experienced before.

We arrived in Columbus with little time to spare. Rather than trying to make sense of the bus routes and waste time waiting for them I got us a cab to drop off our things in our hotel room and then we took another taxi to the art school campus. I told Heero he could stay behind at the hotel and just relax, but he insisted on joining me.

It was mostly quiet on campus with the exception of a crowd of students that had gathered for a student exposition in the main hall. To kill the final minutes before the interview Heero and I walked from one artwork to the next. The works were nothing like my own; much more free, not bound by rules of logic or any other rules. Disproportionate figures, unnatural colors, dynamic shapes and seemingly meaningless splotches of paint. I loved it, I was in awe of every single piece, but I had never felt smaller than I did at that moment. I felt embarrassed with my sketchbook and portfolio tucked under my arm, knowing my bland work could never compete.

"I don't get it," Heero admitted with a scrunched up face, nodding at an immense painting that – for all intents and purposes – looked like the blobs that float round in lava lamps.

"I'm going to go get some air," I promptly announced and I stalked to the exit. I could hear Heero following me but I didn't slow down, I really was in dire need of some fresh air.

He caught up with me when I stood in the shade of a tree, hunched over, feeling like I was going to puke – part of me being grateful I hadn't been able to stomach any food all day, or surely I would have made a mess. He didn't say anything, but his sheer presence was a comfort.

I took a few deep breaths and then straightened up. "Okay," I croaked, "I'm ready." Still, I didn't make a move.

He smiled sympathetically. "Okay. Okay, let's go." With a hand on my back he guided me back inside and to the students admissions office.

Just as we arrived the door we had been directed to by the receptionist opened and a kind-looking woman appeared. She smiled at the both of us. "Right on time, Duo Maxwell, I presume?"

I reached out my hand and nervously introduced myself.

She stepped aside and gestured for me to enter her office.

I looked over my shoulder at Heero and he mouthed: 'Good luck'.

She closed the door and pointed me to a leather recliner at the desk and she sat down across from me. She flipped open the folder that was in front of her on her desk – my folder, I recognized digital copies of the works I had submitted.

She was a pleasant and easy-going woman who started the conversation with small-talk to help me feel at ease, listening to my irrelevant babbling with half an ear but a kind smile as she flipped through my file. We discussed the work I had submitted and she asked to see my portfolio with the original works. I tried to read her face as she leafed through the pages. She was smiling, but I had figured that had nothing to do with my work, that was just the default setting of her face.

After half an hour she asked the question that I had expected to be asked much sooner.

"Duo, why do you want to be in our summer program?"

I locked my hands between my thighs so I would stop fidgeting and make an overall pathetic impression and answered after a moment's thought: "I love art, I feel like it's the only way for me to be myself and to express myself. I'm not really good with words, so it's hard to explain. I feel like art is the truest representation of myself, unadulterated and raw. I'm better with the pencil than I am with the pen, I want to explore and develop that further, I feel like that's the only way for me to be the person I should be and want to be."

She nodded, but the slight frown was disconcerting. "You say your art is the expression of your true nature, I don't mean to question that, but looking through your portfolio, the impression I get is more technical than expressive. It's all very… restrained and controlled. You draw beautifully, but I feel like the emphasis is on the right kind of shading and the correct proportions and an almost academic approach to composition. Overall, the work lacks fluidity and more importantly; it lacks meaning."

I swallowed. Again, I felt like I was going to vomit. I knew she was right, the work I had sent in would probably make the professors at the architecture faculty very happy, but it wasn't very artistic. It was why I had brought my sketchbook, but in the moment I was afraid to show her such crude work.

"I'm sorry, that must sound very harsh. I see it all the time, prospective students submit very technical work thinking that is what we want to see, but the truth is, we can still improve on technique, that's what many classes are for, but we can't teach you to be artistic and students need to have a rudimentary understanding of themselves and their art for us to build on during the curriculum. That is what I look for." She closed the folder and that felt very definitive. "Can you show me something less calculated, something more spontaneous?" She nodded at the sketchbook at my feet.

I squirmed uncomfortably. After a few pages of landscapes –mostly urban - and anatomical drawings and still lifes was page upon page of Heero. I reached for it slowly, contemplating bolting out the door before I would further humiliate myself, but in the end I placed the book on the desk and watched her pull it towards her.

She leafed through the first pages rather quickly. "Clearly this is your comfort-zone," She remarked, paying little attention to the skylines and perspectives of skyscrapers and landmarks.

I shrugged and tried to joke: "That's what four years of studying architecture does to a person." My throat closed up when she flipped the page and right in front of her was the first sketch I had ever made of Heero – just his face, a shy smile and sympathetic eyes. Very few people knew him like that.

She looked up at me with a bit of a smirk, obviously recognizing the young man she had just seen accompanying me. She continued looking through the book, taking longer to appraise the drawings. Flashes of colored pencil and experiments with watercolor brought later sketches to life.

I was biting on my thumb by the time she reached the image of Heero in a state of undress, his hair feathered out on the barely defined pillow. Heero would kill me if he knew I drew him like that, let alone if he knew some stranger viewed it.

"Should I stop before the work gets more compromising?" He jested lightheartedly.

I shook my head. "That's the worst one."

"Hm." She looked back down and flipped through the final pages. "I actually think it's one of the best ones."

"Uhh…"

"Your drawings of this young man are very good, this one in particular," the book was open on the page of that sensual drawing. "They are honest, more focused on feeling and less focused on technique. You're use of color in these last few is quite… inspired." She thumbed back and forth a few more times, only paying attention to the sketches of my friend, not even bothering with the landscapes. "Are you in love with him?" She inquired neutrally.

"No!" I defended instantly and automatically before even truly considering her question. "He's just my friend, nothing more."

She smiled knowingly. "You're right, your art is the truest representation of yourself. Unadulterated."

I realized she just called me a liar, followed immediately by the startling, life-changing epiphany that she was right.

She closed the book and pushed it back across the desk towards me, unaware of the bomb that just went off in my head. "What I would like to know now is why you decided to study architecture instead of art and why you are now applying for this summer program, after four years."

I didn't intend to sound like a pouty kid, but that's what happened when I replied: "I got turned down by a dozen art school, including this one. I had to find something else."

A deep frown formed on her forehead. She pulled her keyboard towards her and punched in some letters. She stared at the screen pensively for a moment before peeling her eyes away from the data in front of her and announcing to me: "I can't speak for the other eleven, but your application was accepted four years ago and you were invited to a follow-up interview. If you had showed up and told us the same things you have told me now, I'm sure you would have gotten in, according to the notes here the work you submitted was very promising."

I shook my head. "That can't be right…"

"It says so right here. You didn't show up for your interview. It was only based on your absence that your application was denied. We are very strict when it comes to no-shows."

My heart was thundering. "I don't understand. I never received an invitation for an interview."

"You can't blame it on the postal services," She informed me. "We require that recipients sign at the moment of delivery, to avoid claims that they never got their mail. It says here that the invitation was sent and received."

Realized dawned on me, falling on top of me like a ton of bricks. "I don't suppose you can see who signed for it."

She shrugged. "A member of your household, at least."

Tears prickled in the corner of my eyes. "My dad did this." I looked to the side. "Oh my God… I can't believe…" He never wanted me to go to art school, hated the idea of it as soon as I mentioned it, when I was only a young teenager. He wanted me to go to business school and follow in his footsteps but I stubbornly refused and my mother convinced him to give me a chance to get accepted into an art institute. Obviously he had hoped that putting a stop to it would cause me to honor his wishes after all. I had no idea if I got accepted into any of the other schools as well, but maybe I had gotten into some and he made sure it would, somehow, not work out. My father was a determined and disturbingly resourceful man. "Fucking bastard."

"If that is really what happened, than I am very sorry and you obviously have some things to deal with right now." She reached for a form and wrote some things down before signing at the bottom of the page. "It's probably only a small consolation but…" She handed me the piece of paper. "You'd be more than welcome to come back here for the summer program. We will send you more concrete information via email."

"Thank you…" I mumbled in a daze.

We said our goodbyes and I pretty much stumbled out the door. Heero wasn't waiting in the corridor, he was probably off somewhere distracting himself to pass the time, I had been in there for over an hour and the next applicant had been waiting in a seat just outside the door. She looked at my pale face nervously, horror-stories going through the mind probably as she clutched her portfolio to her chest.

Rather than immediately going to find Heero – he couldn't have wandered far - I decided I needed some time to be alone with my thoughts so I followed a hallway deeper into the building and then tried doors until I found one that was unlocked. I stood at the top of a large auditorium, rows upon rows of faded red, collapsible seats facing a large projection screen in the front. I walked about halfway down the steps and then sideways to the center seat of the row. In the large space, in the dim lighting, I felt truly alone and for the time being that was exactly what I needed; it was easiest.

I didn't feel the need to call my father to confront him. I plotted to shock him to the core with my newly discovered deviant sexual orientation next time I saw him and hopefully that would feel like proper revenge. And right after I would tell him I was gay – probably in front of more family members for maximum effect – I'd tell him I might have never found out if he hadn't prevented me from getting into art school, because if I had come to Columbus – or any of the other schools I had applied to – four years ago, I would have never met Heero.

Fuck, I thought… I would have never met Heero.

I sat in silence for a long time until the door in the back, the same door through which I had entered, opened softly and then closed. Quiet footfalls moved down the carpeted steps and I glanced to the side quickly to see Heero standing at the very end of the row of seats, looking at me with a concerned and confused expression. Wordlessly he walked along the row towards me and took a seat next to me. He stared up ahead, probably struggling to find words as he must have thought I was sitting there by myself, sulking, because I had been rejected.

"I've been looking all over for you. I went to get us coffee and I waited by the door for an hour only to see some girl come out." He finally spoke up, a little indignantly. "Do you have any idea how many people I have asked if they saw a guy with a three foot long braid? Do you have any idea how many of them looked at me like I was high?"

"I got in," I interrupted.

Heero fell silent. He stared at me incredulously for a moment before he started excitedly: "Duo, that's great! Congratulations!"

I cocked my head to the side and looked at him with pained eyes. "I got in four years ago as well."

His face fell and the confused frown returned to his forehead. "What?"

"My dad, he… He fucked me over." I chuckled bitterly. "He made sure I missed my interview so I would be rejected. Who knows what lengths he went to to make the other schools reject me too, if more of them initially let me in, that is."

Shock was written all over him. "Duo, that's horrible."

"Is it?" I challenged dryly.

His frown only deepened. "Of course. Jesus, I'm so sorry."

"I'm not," I said with a shrug and then chuckled at myself again.

"… I don't understand…"

"I've been sitting here… thinking. I'm not sorry. I can't even be mad at him. Well, not more so than usual, that is." I smiled sadly at his utterly lost expression. "If he hadn't screwed me over like this, I would have never met you."

He stared into my eyes for a long time, then he sat back with a sigh, gazing up ahead with absent eyes as he considered the gravity of my statement.

I love you, I admitted silently to myself, staring at the profile of his beautiful face. I'm in love with you. I didn't dare to say that, but I did add: "I wouldn't want to go back in time. I wouldn't want things to be different."

He didn't say anything, he seemed overwhelmed but struggled not to let it show.

"I would have never met you," I repeated and fought not to let tears spill.

Heero still didn't respond. I realized I had just dropped a bomb in his lap. He may not even realize the full extent of what I was saying, but he was shocked enough as it was and clearly needed time to process the information. Surely it started to dawn on him in that moment that my feelings for him exceeded a purely platonic friendship and it certainly exceeded merely superficial sexual desire.

I plucked at my trousers, starting to worry that I had said too much – even though there was so much more left to say - and that I had ruined everything. I was about to downplay the meaning of my words, intending to attempt to convince him I was just referring to our friendship after all, but then he heaved a sigh and he twisted his upper body to face me. Expecting him to remind me that we were just friends with benefits and that I shouldn't make the mistake that it was or ever could be more I looked at him apprehensively.

He paused to stare at me. I witnessed the warring of conflicting emotions in his brilliant blue eyes.

He's going to tell me it's over, I feared. He's going to put an end to it to prevent things between us from escalating.

But then, rather than saying anything, he leaned in closer and he didn't stop advancing forward until his nose touched mine and I could feel his warm breath, coming from his parted lips, spreading over my face.

My heart was beating so wildly I was surprised neither of us could hear the muscle pounding against the inside of my ribcage. My heart rate only increased when I felt him slip a hand across my thigh, supporting some of his weight as the closed the distance between us.

Finally, our lips met; his merged softly with mine.

Electricity shot through me, sensitizing every nerve ending in my entire body. My eyes were wide open, his were closed.

After the initial, chaste kiss – barely a kiss, really – he pulled back ever so slightly. He opened his eyes but he would only look at my mouth. He didn't retreat any further, encouraging me to put my warm hand on the back of his neck and urge him to come closer again.

The second time we kissed our lips moved together, slowly and gently. Even without any sensual involvement of our tongues it was the most intimate kiss I had ever received. I closed my eyes in pleasure, breathing a sigh of contentment through my nose. I could feel his bangs blending with my own and the tip of his nose touched my cheek as he held his head tilted while our lips touched. Our open-mouthed kiss grew more intense as we grew more comfortable with the new sensations and the new level of intimacy. In the end I had to admit Heero had been right when he introduced the no-kissing rule, stating that it was too intimate. In a way it was more intimate than sucking his dick or fucking him, it was less about bodily pleasure and more about sincere feelings. I hoped he felt the same way. I hoped he enjoyed it as much as I did.

Suddenly it was over, Heero retreated mere millimeters at first, staring at my face for a moment with clear questions in his eyes before sitting back in his seat, facing forward again. An intense scowl masked his vulnerable and uncertain eyes as he pretended to examine the space of the auditorium.

With a sigh I slumped in my seat. My lips still tingled, my mind was still fuzzy. I brought my hand up and traced my thumb along my lower lip. I could barely believe it had really happened, but the wetness on my bottom lip confirmed he had indeed just suckled on it a moment ago. I looked over at him. He seemed as shocked by his unexpected action as I was. "What does this mean?"

"I thought this was what you wanted."

"It is," Part of it at least. "But what does it mean?"

"It means I wanted to give you what you wanted," He replied meekly, refusing to meet my gaze.

"Thank you," I breathed, staring at him dreamily. "It was wonderful." If anything he had succeeded in making me fall in love with him even more.

We sat in silence for a little while longer, staring up ahead, both of us lost in our own thoughts.

Unannounced Heero promptly got up on his feet and he started walking away.

I sat upright, my chest constricted with worry. Did he regret it? Was he angry now for breaking his own rule?

Already a few steps away from me Heero turned around and extended out his arm, reaching back for me, his hand open. "Let's go get something to eat."

With a smile I jumped to my feet and took hold of his hand and followed him back up the stairs to the exit of the auditorium. Even outside, in the hallway, in plain view of the students that had lingered at the exposition, he continued to hold my hand as he walked side by side, our shoulders bumping into each other.

I was already looking forward to going back to our hotel room later in the evening, hoping this progress meant I would be allowed to kiss him while I fucked him. No, while I made love to him, whether he realized it or not.

I would always remember that day as the day I realized I was in love with Heero and the day I first kissed him, not as the day I found out just how big of a bastard my father really was, stopping at nothing to get me to do his bidding.

Tale as old as time. Boy meets boy. Boy is roommates with boy. Boy hates boy, then boy becomes boy's best friend. Three years later boy has sex with boy and now boy is in love with boy.

I shook my head at myself, chuckling under my breath. I squeezed Heero's hand, causing him to look at me, his expression quizzical upon seeing my silly grin. For the moment I wasn't going to worry about him leaving soon, I intended to make the best of the time we had left together.


	16. Chapter 16

**Thousand Words**

**_Sixteen_ **

We had dinner in an informal restaurant where I attempted to engage him in a game of footsie under the table, but the concept was more or less lost on him, it appeared. The first few times our feet met he apologized and retreated, when it kept happening as I continued to blindly feel around for him, he just started to get annoyed. It was pretty amusing though. With a laugh I gave up and just watched him as he picked the best fries off his plate, chewing on them thoughtfully.

When he asked me what I planned for us to do the rest of the evening, an obviously answer sprang to mind, but before it could blurt past my lips, I suddenly had a different, bold idea. I wanted to go to that gay club that I had come across during my web search earlier. After the events of that day I felt energized, I felt alert… I felt alive. I fucking felt like dancing. A certain sense of ecstasy had built up inside me and it had to be released or else I would explode, I was sure of it. A straight club would have been an easier sell to Heero, but I had the pity-card to play. After all, even if I didn't feel that way, I had had a pretty traumatic day. And if we went to a regular club, we would have to pretend to just be friends, I didn't want to pretend. Not that night. It had felt amazing to walk through the university hallways and through the streets even, holding his hand. I wanted to recapture that feeling, and magnify it by tenfold. I wanted to dance with him. I wanted to kiss him. I wanted to hold him. And I wanted the world to see – or… well, the gay community of Columbus would suffice. I recognized it was as close to being open about our 'relationship' as we ever could be and it seemed like a terrible waste not to make use of it.

He agreed to go. It wasn't even that difficult to pester him into agreeing with me, making me smile and making me ponder the meaning of it all.

After getting lost on our way back to the hotel, we finally made it back and we showered and changed.

I was giddy, there was no other word for it.

Heero emerged from the bathroom in a tight pair of blue jeans and a red button-up shirt. I stared lustfully, second-guessing my decision not to stay in for the evening and confine him to the bed. I had purposefully chosen a room with only one, double bed. I had expected some objection on his behalf, but he hadn't even mentioned it when we first walked in to drop of our bags earlier that day.

"You look great."

He made a face and looked down at himself. "I'm not so sure. What the hell does a person wear to a gay club?"

"Since I know you don't have a sequined shirt and assless chaps, I guess this will do." I chuckled, then let out an exaggerated moan.

"What?"

"We should get you a pair of leather chaps…" I laughed until I had a pillow thrown into my face which caused me to fall backwards off my chair. "Your birthday is coming up."

"Don't you even fucking dare, Maxwell!" He sat down on the edge of the bed to put on his shoes.

As he tied the laces I crawled onto the bed as well, moving forward until I was on my knees behind him. I put my hands on my shoulders, rubbing them briefly before running my hands down his front. "You'd look so good in leather chaps."

"You're fucking crazy." He gasped when I found a nipple through the thin fabric of his cheap shirt. "What are you doing? I thought you wanted to go out? You practically set up a power point presentation to convince me."

I scoffed. "I did not!" With one hand on his chin I tried to get him to turn his head to face me so I could kiss him, but he resisted. "Do you want to go to that gay club so badly?" I teased.

"No! I just don't want to be all…" He shrank into himself.

"All what?"

"I don't want you to get me all horny before we go! It's weird enough as it is."

I sat back, releasing him. "What's weird about it?"

He looked over his shoulder and rolled his eyes. "Sequins and chaps."

I laughed and climbed off the bed, moving to the mirror to fuss over my hair and adjust my black clothes. "That was just a joke, I hardly think that's the norm, even in a gay club."

"But still…" He argued pitifully. "We're not like that, but they are all going to think that we are."

I fumbled with a button, pretending to be preoccupied with deciding whether to go with two or three unbuttoned. Coolly, I asked: "We're not like what?" I could practically feel him glare at me, it burned and itched.

"Gay."

I stared at my own reflection. How could he honestly still feel that way? I was a pretty open-minded guy, especially with regards to sex. I didn't think sleeping with someone of the same gender necessarily makes a person gay – I happily suggested fucking Heero before I realized my own sexual orientation – but considering everything between us, how could he still say something like that? Like it would be preposterous, not to mention wrong, for us to be gay. The thought that all the intense feelings I had been experiencing might be completely unrequited was painful and certainly affected my mood, but I didn't want the day to end like that, I wanted to go back to that feeling of happiness and contentment. Casually I replied: "Of course we aren't." I furrowed my brows at myself, it didn't feel good lying to my friend like that, about my sexuality, but I couldn't risk saying anything that would screw this up, not when it meant so much to me.

"But those guys are going to think that we are. They're going to hit on us. They're going to… try things…" He made a face.

I tried to make light of everything, even as my heart started to get weighed down and slowly sank into my gut, causing an overwhelming nausea. "Don't flatter yourself," I deadpanned.

"I'm serious, it's going to be weird."

"Then let's just pretend that we are boyfriends, they will leave us alone."

He buried his face in his palms at the suggestion. "This arrangement keeps getting weirder and weirder."

I turned around to face him. "It's hardly a stretch, not much of an act. We're best friends who fuck, how different is that from a relationship?" I swallowed, realizing what a huge risk I had taken by saying that. I approached the bed and grabbed his arm and hoisted him up. "Let's just go, don't overthink it. It'll be fun!"

He allowed me to tug him along, out of our hotel room and down to the lobby where we waited for a taxi. I could tell he got embarrassed when clearly the taxi driver recognized what kind of club he was taking us to. The man himself hardly seemed bothered by the notion, but I could tell it was eating away at Heero.

We could hear the music before we even got out of the car. A rather monotonous, simple beat. From the outside the club didn't look like much, but there was a crowd of smokers outside, implying that it was a busy club. I didn't spot any sequins nor chaps.

I paid the driver and pushed Heero out of the car. I was eager to go inside, it would be a first for me and obviously, considering my newly discovered homosexuality, it was an anticipated experience for me, regardless of the fact that I wasn't really interested in any other guy than Heero. I was eager to see what it was like and what it would feel like to dance with him, his body close to mine, our movements sensual, the music reverberating in our chests.

It was still pretty early in the evening, so there wasn't a line fortunately. When we entered we found ourselves in a dark space with black walls, black floor, black ceiling and a clack curtain leading further into the club. There was a guy behind a desk, where we paid the entry fee, who took our coats and gave us a ticket in exchange. Just as we were about to head inside, he purposefully cleared his throat. I looked back at him expectantly.

"You have to take off your shirts."

"Excuse me?"

"It's shirtless Saturday, you have to take off your shirts."

Heero glared at me. "Are you kidding me?"

"How the fuck was I supposed to know? Besides, what's the big deal?" I popped the buttons of my shirt and shrugged the fabric off my shoulders. I tucked one end of the article of clothing into the back pocket of my black jeans. With a silly grin I helped Heero out of his shirt and shamelessly cupped his ass while securing one end of the red fabric in his back pocket.

With my hand on his lower back I guided him through the curtain, onto the dance floor. He was nervous and reluctant, I tried not to let it get to me.

The music was overpowering, it was so loud it was like a physical presence, thickening the air. Colored beams of light moved through the space, gliding over half naked bodies that shone with sweat. Dancing either meant jumping up and down to the beat or vertical dry-humping. I felt Heero tense, he was about ready to bolt.

I leaned in and had to shout in his ear to be heard: "Let's go get a drink!"

"I don't drink!"

I rolled my eyes, of course I knew that, but I figured it was about time for him to make an exception. "You'll feel more relaxed!"

"I'll feel more relaxed if we get out of here!"

I pretended not to hear him and pulled him along. I made sure to hold onto his hand tightly as we wormed our way through the crowd to the bar at the other end of the club. Heero was holding on tightly as well, holding on for dear life it felt like.

At the bar there was a single empty stool and I pushed Heero onto it. Leaning over him I raised my hand to get the attention of the bartender and I ordered us two shots of tequila.

I put the shot glass to my lips and tipped my head back.

Heero wasn't quite so eager, his glass remained on the bar, he idly traced the rim of the glass with his index finger.

"Take your time," I joked. "I'm going to take a piss!"

He shot a disconcerted look over his shoulder. "You're going to leave me alone out here?"

"Would you rather join me in the restroom? Who knows what kind of sordid things go on in there!" I laughed when he promptly brought the shot glass up to his mouth and downed the drink, scrunching up his face at the taste. "I'll be right back!" I would have preferred not to leave his side, but my own anxiety and excitement required me to make a visit to the rest rooms. I had butterflies in my stomach that were prodding my bladder.

After quite a search I found a staircase heading down into the basement where the restrooms were. The hallway leading down was crammed with couples who had sought out the relative privacy of the poorly lit corridor to properly make out. Broad-shouldered men had their partners pushed up against the wall, ravishing their mouth. A number of guys had their pants pushed down to mid-thigh and were shamelessly jerking each other off, not caring that other patrons – on their way to and fro the restrooms – stopped to gawk at them, even touching themselves through their trousers. I took a deep breath and made my way through, trying hard not to stare. In the restroom all the stalls were in use, but judging by the heated moaning and the rhythmic shuddering of the partitions I doubted the toilets were getting much use. But I wasn't judgmental. If anything, I was jealous. These men were free to do whatever they wanted and self-aware enough to enjoy it. There was no denial here, just wild abandon.

As I was standing in front of the urinal a guy invaded my personal space, with complete disregard for the fact that the front of my jeans were open and I was exposed. He leaned in close and remarked: "I love your hair."

"Eh, thanks." I tucked myself back into my underwear and moved to the sinks.

He followed me.

I looked up at the mirror and saw him standing behind me. A handsome man, although many years my senior. He was a little shorter than me, as most people were, but he was incredibly muscled. The definition of his chest and abdomen was admirable. I turned around to face him and let my eyes briefly trail further down, out of curiosity. Then I suddenly burst into laughter.

He furrowed his brows, dissatisfied with my reaction. "Dick." Without further ado he walked away to chat up someone else.

Still smiling I made my way upstairs and back to the bar. The grin I had been sporting vanished from my face when I noticed two guys flanking Heero, leaning in way too close to my liking. One of them had his big hand on the back of the stool Heero was sitting on, very nearly touching what only I was allowed to touch. I elbowed my way through the rest of the crowd and forcefully inserted myself in between Heero and the guy on his left, effectively pushing him aside without paying any heed to his grumbling 'cockblock' remark. I draped my arm possessively around Heero's bare shoulders and glared at the other guy.

"They were buying me drinks," Heero stupidly explained.

I noticed the several empty shot glasses in front of him. 'I don't drink' he always said, I scoffed inwardly. "I can see that," I replied. I could see the empty glasses as well as I could see the haze in his eyes and the blush on his cheeks. "Whatever happened to 'No, thank you, I don't drink'?"

"You told me to loosen up."

"Yeah, I didn't tell you to get wasted, though." I redirected my gaze to the flirtatious guy on Heero's right, who was still right there – sitting so annoyingly close to him. "Do you mind?"

"Mind what?"

"Fucking off."

"Hey man, he didn't say anything about being spoken for-"

"He's mine!" I ignored Heero's puzzled expression and stared the man down.

"Sheesh," He slid off the stool and disappeared into the crowd.

"Why are you acting like this?" Heero wondered, shrugging my arm off his shoulders.

"Like what?"

"Like you want to pee on my leg to mark your fucking territory."

I reeled back, his tone was angry and his eyes cold. But then all of a sudden he erupted into inexplicable laughter and he seemed to forget all about being mad at me. The alcohol must have started to get to him.

Whether he realized it or not though, he was mine. The thought of someone else's hands on his body made me shudder and knotted up my stomach. I wouldn't stand it. He may not agree to being my boyfriend, he may not even agree to being gay at all, but our deal was to be exclusive, so I had every right to call him mine.

"Want to hear something funny?"

He nodded.

I leaned in, cupped my hand around his ear and told him: "I saw a guy with assless chaps in the restroom."

He laughed again, it was a delicious sound, too bad the loud beat of the music drowned out most of it.

"He was hitting on me and all of a sudden I noticed he was wearing chaps and I laughed right in his face."

For whatever reason he wasn't amused anymore, even though I thought it was a pretty funny coincidence. "Hitting on you?" He inquired unsubtly.

I grinned. Could he be jealous? "He loved my hair."

"He said that?"

"Yeah."

"What a useless thing to say."

I shrugged. "I actually rather liked it."

He looked down at the empty glasses in front of him, thoughtlessly rearranging them in a pattern that only existed in his increasingly inebriated mind as the alcohol traveled and spread through his system.

Leaning in close I teased breathily: "Heero, are you jealous?"

He frowned. "Why would I be jealous?"

I sighed, perhaps I was expecting too much from him; hoping too much. I grabbed his elbow and forced him out of his seat. "Come on. Let's dance." I started pulling him along.

"I'm really drunk right now!" He said in objection, but he hardly resisted my pull as I tugged him along, through the writhing bodies, to the center of the dance floor.

Once I had found us a spot I pulled him close against me. "Let's hope alcohol improves your dancing."

"I'm a perfectly adequate dancer when I'm sober!" He argued pathetically.

I laughed. When I dragged Heero to clubs before the most he would do was bob his head as he remained seated at the bar for the entire duration of the evening. He told me he doesn't really like dancing, but I had a feeling he might like dancing with me.

Heero was awkward and reluctant at first, but at the same time determined to get me to stop teasing him, so he started to follow my lead, moving to the beat of the music. Whether or not the alcohol was to thank, he wasn't doing so bad, the motions of his hips were fluid and confident, the red shirt swayed back and forth accenting the movement of his hips, his messy hair moved to the rhythm until after a while his bangs and the hair at the nape of his neck started to stick to his skin as a sheen of sweat covered his body. I was a hot mess myself, it couldn't be helped, in such a densely packed space, surrounded by heated bodies. Although it wasn't only the atmosphere that made me feel hot and bothered.

"Come closer," I breathed, he couldn't have heard me over the music but he must have read my lips, seeing how his eyes widened. We were probably close enough for his liking as it was, but I wanted to feel him flush against me as we danced. With one arm I encircled his slim waist and pulled him against me. The friction that was created got me aroused, shamelessly I purposefully ground my groin against his. When he noticed the hard bulge in my jeans he was shocked at first, but after a while his eyelids lowered and his mouth opened for inaudible panting as his own manhood became erect in the confines of his jeans. Forgetting that we were surrounded by a crowd of equally horny men I spun him around. With his sweaty back pressed against my broad chest I rocked my hips into him. One arm I had wrapped around his chest to keep him close to me, my free hand dipped down to fondle him through his jeans. Heero leaned his head back on my shoulder, he squinted his eyes at the bright beams of light overhead. My lips were against his ear but I lacked the coherency to kiss, lick or nip at the shell, all I could do was breathe harshly. Even though we were still moving in rhythm with the music, our activity could hardly be called dancing.

Unfortunately a man close to us, who had been dancing by himself, took notice of that and given the public setting he probably assumed he was free to join in. He moved closer to us, his eyes dark and hooded. I became aware of his approach just in time to stop him from pressing himself up against Heero's front with the intention of sandwiching the beautiful Japanese man between our taller frames. I extended my arm and held my hand up to keep him at bay, glaring dangerously at him, but he wouldn't meet my gaze, he was hungrily staring at Heero's heaving chest, his rippling abdomen and his obvious erection.

Heero became aware of what was happening in spite of his drunken and lust-filled state. Embarrassed he turned around in my embrace, burying his nose under my chin.

The guy got the message and didn't make a big deal of the rejection. He turned around and found himself a different dance partner.

Heero and I stood still in the middle of the dance floor. I kissed the top of his head and jested: "We sure are popular tonight."

"That was really careless of us," He spoke against my chest. "We shouldn't lose control like that, getting hard and practically fucking in public."

I tightened my arms around him. I agreed that it had been foolish, but for different reasons. While Heero was embarrassed of being seen like that, my only concern was that I didn't want anybody else to see him like that; those passionate eyes, the red hue on his cheeks, his hard nipples, the outline of his arousal in his pants, those were for my eyes only. I regretted letting it get out of hand like that. "I'm sorry. I took it too far, I'm sorry."

"It's not your fault. I lose myself too easily to you."

I was confused, I didn't know what he meant, if he meant to say what I desperately wanted him to say or if I was just reading too much into it.

I slowly swayed us from side to side; we ended up slow-dancing to the relentless beat of trance music, amidst a sea of bodies jumping up and down in unison. I had one hand on his lower back, the other on the back of his neck. My face was buried in his silken hair, I loved the way he smelled, faint note of generic hotel shampoo accompanied by a scent that I had grown to love; his natural scent. Maybe pheromones were at play, I didn't pretend to know, I just knew I couldn't get enough of it as I breathed in deeply and greedily.

Although my erection had long disappeared there was still urgency in my tone of voice when I told him I wanted to go back to the hotel room.

He disentangled himself from me and looked me in the eyes, my lust still evident there. "Yeah, let's go," He agreed.

I protectively held onto him as I took us back to the exit where we hastily slipped back into our shirts and exchanged the tickets for our coats.

The air outside was chilled, especially in comparison to the near unbearable heat inside the club. A cold drizzle made matters worse, getting us wet and cold as we waited for a taxi. The entire time we weren't looking at each other, nor speaking to each other, but we were holding hands.

In the unexpected but welcome warmth of the taxi cab it was difficult to keep my hands to myself. If I wasn't so acutely aware that Heero would not appreciate the driver being witness to anything, I would have rolled on top of him and worked my hands under his coat and shirt to find and tease his nipples. Thinking about these things didn't make restraining myself any easier.

With a fast pace we crossed through the lobby – I think Heero was equally eager, just somewhat better at hiding it than I was – we stepped into the elevator and stood shoulder to shoulder. As soon as the doors had fully slid shut and the elevator started it's ascend I roughly pushed Heero against one of the four mirrored walls and pressed myself against him in a heartbeat, pressing one knee against the wall between his parted legs. I worked his coat open and popped the single button that held the sides of his shirt together. My hands roamed, pinching his nipples and tracing the shape of his ribs as his chest contracted with sharp gasps. I burned hot kisses onto his neck before tilting my head up to whisper hotly in his ear: "Heero, may I kiss you again?"

His hands reached up and cupped my jaw firmly, I saw only a flash of determined blue before he closed his eyes and pulled my face down towards his. Our mouths clashed together. The kiss that followed was sloppy, uncoordinated and, at times, painful as our teeth would bump into each other or we would rake the other's lips too harshly in our desperation. In the meantime I was delighted Heero had starting rubbing himself up and down my thigh, with my own clothed erection getting plenty of satisfying friction as well. When I attempted to deepen the kiss, spurred on by his wanton enthusiasm, he promptly closed his mouth, denying my tongue access.

Just that moment a ding sounded and the doors opened on our floor. Luckily there had been no other guests waiting, or they would have gotten an eyeful. I twisted my fingers into the front of his coat and ripped him out of the elevator. We stumbled down the hallway to our door, luckily not too far away.

When I unlocked the door we practically fell face-first inside, but fortunately we were able to balance ourselves. I kicked the door shut and made haste to rid him of his coat and shirt before helping him strip me out of most of my clothing.

I let out a throaty moan when Heero firmly cupped the bulge in the bulge of my jeans while he suckled on my Adam's apple. It seemed he quickly figured it was better to press our groins together and rock our hips, so that's what we did. We were both moaning loudly.

"We have to slow down," I said, "Or I'm going to blow my load in my jeans." Something as embarrassing as that hadn't happened to me in many years, but Heero had a much more powerful effect on me than anybody else I had ever been with.

Heero didn't listen to me, unable to control himself. His hands kneaded my sides, roamed my back and twisted my braid around a fist.

I chuckled but put a rein on things. "Heero, slow down, I don't want this to be over yet." I forced him to step back until his back connected with the wall and with a single hand I pinned his wrists above his head. I groaned watching him bite his lower lip and stare at me with passionate, clouded eyes. "Slow…" I repeated in a whisper.

He let out a pathetic whine and halfheartedly struggled to free his hands.

I placed a chaste kiss on his lips, smiling when Heero pushed his head off the wall, following me as I pulled back. I continued to kiss him sensually and languidly. It was better than I had ever dreamed it would be. The fact that kissing him felt so different - so much better – from all the times I kissed girls confirmed to me that I was truly, madly in love with him. My fingers ghosted over his chest and he arched his back in response. My tongue emerged to lick his lower lip and I was met with no resistance that time, although I did feel his body tense. I pushed my tongue into his mouth and coaxed his into a tentative battle. Soon enough his shyness evaporated and he allowed me to ravish his mouth before pushing his tongue into mine and returning the favor.

So much for taking things slow, I thought helplessly. I let go of his wrists and grabbed his ass with both hands and lifted him up. Walking over to the bed Heero wrapped his legs around my hips and his arms around my neck, holding on to me while we still distractedly exchanged heated kisses. I sat down on the edge of the bed, with Heero in my lap.

As we paused to breathe, he confessed: "I love your hair too, you know?"

"Huh?"

"That guy who said he loved your hair… I love your hair too."

In all likelihood it was the tequila talking, but there had to be some truth to his statement, alcohol only made people less inhibited. I forced our lips together again. "Thank you," I moaned between kisses.

With my hands still firmly on his ass I felt his phone vibrate in his back pocket before the familiar chirp sounded, muffled by the denim.

I released his lips and chuckled sheepishly at his displeased expression.

He reached back and fished the phone out of his pocket. He had no choice but to answer, she would just keep calling otherwise. "It's one thirty AM for God's sake. You'd think after nearly four years she'd the remember the time difference between here and Japan."

"The woman has Alzheimer's," I defended, "You can hardly expect her to remember time zones."

"But it's never my grandmother who calls, it's always my mother," He grumbled. He shot me an apologetic look before he answered the call, putting the phone to his ear. "Moshi moshi."

I leaned back on my elbow with a sigh studying his naked torso and listening to the one-sided conversation in foreign words that I didn't understand but liked the exotic sound of.

Heero was very curt, obviously annoyed, even though he usually loved getting to speak to his grandmother over the phone. Typically it meant she was having a good day and that, in turn, brightened his day. This time around, however, he was a little preoccupied.

I smirked and pushed my hips off the bed, grinding my arousal against his bottom.

He let out a startled gasp and with bright red cheeks he seemed to be making excuses for what the sound had really been. He said his goodbye quickly after that and all but threw the phone across the room. He leaned forward, bringing his face close to mine. "Not nice," He chastised, his fingers idly tracing the shapes of my abdominal muscles.

"Hmm…" With a grin on my lips I took hold of his hips and continued to thrust my pelvis up. "Don't even pretend you don't like every second of it."

Heero's mouth opened and his eyes slid closed as he moaned loudly, pushing back against my sensitized groin. After a while he grabbed my hands and peeled my fingers off his flesh. "I'm done playing games," He ground out, "I want you." He stood next to the bed, undid his jeans and pushed them down to his ankles.

No underwear, I noted appreciatively. I raised my hips off the bed just enough for him to practically rip off my jeans. My shoes flew across the room.

Both of us naked, Heero crawled past me to the center of the bed, laying down on his back, his lithe body sensually stretched out on the sheets.

I wasted no time getting on all fours and moving over to him. He willingly spread his legs, allowing me to settle on my knees between his golden thighs. Leaning forward I licked his stomach, suckled on each nipple and kissed my way up his elegant, long neck to capture his mouth. I took my time, even though I could tell Heero was eager for me to take him. I wanted it to last. I wanted it to be special. It felt like the very first time. In a way it was, the atmosphere was so differently now that I was allowed to kiss him. The act of touching him became infinitely more intimate with our lips locked and our tongues sparring. And I was thrilled to find Heero to be an excellent kisser; submissive at the right times, dominant at the right times, not too wet, not too deep, not demanding but generous. It was perfect.

Inevitably though, I reached the limit of what I could stand. "Say it again," I begged. It dawned on me that maybe I should have been more specific in my request, but evidently Heero knew exactly which words I wanted to hear.

"I want you."

I love you, I thought secretly in reply. For the time being hearing him say 'I want you' would be enough. I couldn't expect any more from him.

Since I had unwisely neglected to bring lube in my previous, nervous state, we had to make do without. I would have been worried if not for the fact that Heero didn't seem to mind last time we just used saliva. I spat into my hand a couple of times and rubbed the bodily fluid over my erection, taking care not to stimulate myself too much. I moved to quickly prepare him, just in case, but he grabbed my wrist and told me not to. I trusted him to know what he could handle and what would feel good to him, so I ended up not using my fingers on him. I hooked my hands under his knees and pushed his knees all the way up to his chest, at shoulder's width, fully exposing him.

The look in Heero's eyes was one of passion and trust, he hadn't been uncomfortable with the vulnerability of any of his positions as the bottom for a while, he was just eager to give and to receive the pleasure we had both become familiar with and had grown addicted to.

Sitting on my knees I maneuvered myself until the head of my arousal pressed against his tight opening. I leaned forward, putting more of my weight on my hands still planted on the hollow of his knees. I looked at his face, needing some kind of confirmation that he was ready.

"Go slow," He breathed. "I really… I really want to feel you stretch me."

A deep groan vibrated in the back of my throat. I kept my gaze affixed to his features as I slowly pushed inside him, biting my lip painfully to balance out the incredible pleasure his tight heat provided me.

His mouth was wide open, but he was holding his breath. He looked deeply into my eyes until I was about halfway inside him, when he lifted his head off the pillow and looked down his body at where he and I became one. A raspy moan escaped him.

I was tempted to look down as well, knowing it to be quite a glorious and satisfying sight, but it was the first time Heero had looked and I wanted to see his face as he watched.

The last inch disappeared inside him and I dipped my head down to capture his lips, catching him by surprise. He rested his head back on the pillow and let me thrust my tongue into his mouth and explore him while I was fully seated inside him.

Once our lips parted he begged: "Please… Move."

"Talk in Japanese for me," I requested, curious to know what he would sound like purring words in that exotic language.

Rather than questioning my odd desire he placed his hand on the back of my neck and pulled me close to whisper in my ear: "Onegai."

"Ah! Yeah, like that!" I started with slow thrusts, reveling in the tightness and the heat of his channel, made more slick by my own precum.

Senseless moans poured from his lips, intermitted with the occasional foreign word that sent shivers down my spine.

Even though he was using words I didn't know, I still felt like I understood what he wanted and how he felt. I picked up the pace, simultaneously leaning in for another sensual kiss. The responses of his tongue were less focused as he was clearly overwhelmed with pleasure, but it only boosted my ego. I continued to overload him with pleasure, taking one hand off his leg to roll a stiff nipple between my thumb and forefinger. I instructed him to jerk himself off and he readily obliged.

The pitch of his moans changed in that characteristic way and he tightened around me.

Recognizing it to be the home stretch I placed my hands on either side of his head to support my weight and sped up my thrusts, nearly jackhammering into him. I finally had to close my eyes and let my orgasm rip through me powerfully, keeping up the relentless pace of my hips even as I was coming to bring him over the edge.

Heero was a mere heartbeat behind, crying out in my ear as his orgasm overcame him.

Finally I stilled, with my cock still buried deep inside him. I studied his face. He looked relaxed and absolutely content. I smiled at him and felt my heart warm when he smiled back.

"Arigatou…"

I groaned and lay myself down on top of him, not caring about the sticky mess, and buried my face in the crook of his neck. I knew enough to know what that word meant. Heero shook slightly as he chuckled. "The things you do to me," I muttered, then sighed happily when he started to kiss my neck and shoulders.

But then suddenly it was over. Heero ordered me to get off him, not in a mean way, but in a definitive way regardless.

With shaky, tired muscles I pushed myself up and carefully pulled my softened member out of him, then rolled onto the empty space next to him. The mattress shifted as he climbed off the bed and soon light from the bathroom poured into the room. I listened to him run water in the sink, cleaning himself off. I looked down at myself, I should have gotten up and cleaned myself up too, Heero's semen had stuck to my stomach when I laid down on top of him. I was too tired though. I needed a minute longer.

The mattress dipped, Heero has returned. I gasped when I felt a warm, wet cloth being gently placed on my torso and used to thoroughly rub me clean. Casually I rested my hand on his thigh. "Ah-ree-gay-to."

He let out a single laugh at my pitiful attempt. He leaned in close. "Arigatou," He repeated.

"Ah- Ree… Oh fuck it!" I cupped his face and lifted my head up to kiss him.

When we parted he chuckled again and got rid of the cloth and switched off the light in the bathroom.

In the darkness, lying next to other, he remarked: "It's kind of weird to sleep in the same bed together."

"Why?"

"I don't know. Because it's what couples do, I guess."

"And we're not a couple…"

"Exactly."

I stared at the ceiling. I didn't like that. I didn't like that at all. But I had no choice but to stand it.

"I've never done that, you know."

"What?" I rolled onto my side to face him and propped my head up on my hand.

"Say things in Japanese while…"

"Well, except of course when you were still in Japan."

"I didn't lose my virginity until the first year of college and during the summers I've always been too busy to… think about girls."

My eyes widened at his confession. I quickly found myself to be abhorrently jealous. "You were still a virgin?"

He scoffed. "Not everyone loses their virginity at fourteen!"

"Who was it?" I wondered curiously.

"No one you know. She left after our first year."

"Transfer?"

"Senior. She helped me with my English."

"Oh." I worried my lower lip with my teeth. But then I realized in a way he had also lost his virginity to me, a different kind of virginity and I grinned stupidly. And adding to my possessiveness was the thought that apparently I was the only one who had ever had the privilege of hearing him moan those exotic words. I wondered why he told me that, more or less out of the blue. Perhaps because he knew what kind of effect that would have on me. But then again, maybe he just used it as an excuse to remind me that he still wholeheartedly believed himself to be straight, by referencing his past sex-life with girls.

Considering the emotional rollercoaster I had gone through that day it was impossible for exhaustion to not get the better of me eventually and make me drift away into a deep sleep regardless of the heartache I felt at being so close to Heero, yet still so far away.

When I woke up the next morning, I found that I was spooning him. My erection lined up with the cleft of his shapely behind. Heero woke up too, noticing my arousal instantly. He reached back and grabbed my ass cheek, holding me close to him. "Be careful, I'm sore from last night." I made love to him gently, we came in perfect unison…

And then I woke up for real. I squinted my eyes at the bright light, we had neglected to draw the curtains the night before – we had been a little preoccupied, after all. I lay sprawled on the bed, my hair every which way. I looked over at the empty space beside me, Heero was gone. The sound of the water running in the shower put me at ease. For a split second I had been worried he had run off or something. I turned onto my side and grabbed the pillow he had been sleeping on that night, I buried my nose into it, taking a deep breath. It smelled of him and of sex. My favorite combination.

Heero emerged from the bathroom shortly in the same tight jeans from the previous night, because it was the only other pair he had brought with him, combined with his favorite black-and-blue lumberjack patterned shirt. He was still toweling his air and looked at me oddly while I was shamelessly sniffing his pillow. "Good morning."

"Good morning," I mumbled into the pillow, challenging him to make a comment about me hugging the thing to my body. When he didn't make any judgmental remarks I raised my head up and asked: "How are you feeling?"

"I have a headache," He admitted.

I smiled. Figures. "And what about…? Down there." Considering we hadn't had proper lubrication and that we had foregone any preparation in addition to the fact that I had been pretty rough in the final leg of the event, I worried I may have inadvertently hurt him.

He sat down on the edge of the bed, his back towards me, and tied his shoes. "I'm a little sore."

It surprised me that he admitted that so easily. "Sorry."

"No need to apologize. You gave it to me exactly the way I wanted it."

My morning erection twitched in response. "No regrets then?"

"No."

His simple reply made me happier than he could imagine. Although I was probably reading too much into it again.

"Go take a shower," He advised casually, "Check out is in an hour."

"Huh? What time is it?"

"Eleven AM."

"When did you get up out of bed?"

He shrugged. "Twenty minutes ago."

I grinned and crawled over to him. "You mean to tell me you slept in?" I jested.

"I didn't have my running gear with me. If I had I would have gotten up earlier. Sleeping in somehow only makes me feel more tired."

I knelt behind him and kissed his neck. "It's not all bad though, right?"

"I guess not."

Maybe sleeping in was worth it as long as he was sleeping next to me? I was allowed to indulge myself in such illusions, was I not? I got out of bed, unashamed about my nudity and my evident morning wood and took a lengthy shower. When I had finished and had gotten dressed I noticed Heero had packed for the both of us and had tidied up the room.

An hour later we were on the train back home. Heero yawned frequently, apparently sleeping in really did make him more tired. Halfway through our quiet journey I felt a weight on my shoulder. Opening my eyes, leaving behind my own pleasant daydream, I looked to the side and smiled when I saw Heero had fallen asleep in the seat next to me, his body slumped against me, his head leaning on my shoulder. I listened to his slow breathing, stared at his parted lips and studied the long, dark lashes that rested on his high cheekbones. He was so beautiful, in a way that transcended the archetypes of both male and female attractiveness. He was the most beautiful person I had ever seen, inside and out.

I love you.

There was a slight sting in my chest at not being able to say those words aloud. I didn't dare to, not even as he was evidently fast asleep.

I placed a kiss on the top of his head and closed my eyes again, continuing my daydream; diving back into a perfect world where I could say all I wanted to say and have Heero say them back to me. Dreams like that would have to do.


	17. Chapter 17

**Thousand Words**

**Chapter 17**

Heero focused all his attention, effort and time on an upcoming swim competition. It was an important match to him, only because he hated losing and he lost to one of the opposing team members last year. Apparently the rival was a condescending dick on top of that, but I hadn't met him and obviously Heero's perspective on the guy was a little biased, to say the least. While it was boring to not have Heero around a lot of time – and worse still was the fact that when he came to the dorm room at night he was usually too tired to have some fun with me – I did take enjoyment out of watching him train from my regular spot on the top row of the bleachers. I refused to believe that he was keeping me at bay because of the intense weekend we had had.

I was looking forward to the match, the competitive swimmer always got deliciously feisty after a victory, so once he would have had a good night's sleep, I planned on making up on all lost time with him. Entertaining the thought sometimes left me with a painful stiffy in my jeans. Luckily no one paid any attention to me. There were other spectators, but they were captivated by the sight of half-naked, fit, young men in swim jammers and speedos that left nothing to the imagination. Why would anyone look over their shoulder and look up at the lonesome guy at the top of the bleachers obsessively scratching his pencil over a piece of paper?

It was impossible not to draw sketch after sketch of Heero. It was all I could do to satisfy my lust. Outlining his body with my pencil sometimes felt like an intimate touch and as a result some body parts received more attention than others. His eyes, his lips, his ass and his crotch were a little too harshly defined after going over them so often.

I closed my sketchbook and tucked it away securely when the coach blew his whistle definitively. The swimmers climbed out of the pool and formed a circle around him to receive some constructive criticism or a pat on their back for a job well done, then they were sent to the showers.

As he walked along the length of the pool towards the locker rooms – trailing Trowa – Heero looked up at me and I instantly felt hot all over in spite of the shiver that traveled down my spine. I pointed in the general direction of the back door of the facility, indicating I would be waiting for him there. He nodded and then his attention was pulled by Trowa, who slowed down to walk beside him and started talking to him.

I didn't have to wait long. Heero was very efficient, he showered and dressed quickly and never bothered much with his untamable hair. He was one of the first to come out of the warm, humid building. I jumped up from the concrete lining of a flower bed where I had taken a quick seat and met up with him.

"That was a great training session. You looked really good."

"Thanks."

I bit my lip and tilted my head to steal a glance at his shapely behind, his tight jeans were barely more modest than his navy blue swim jammers. He looked really good. "Will you be shaving your legs again?"

He frowned at me. "What is it with you and shaving legs?"

"I just think… I don't know…" I laughed at myself. "I guess I just think it's kind of sexy."

"Sexy?"

I shrugged. "Yeah."

"Why?"

I couldn't answer that. I didn't find the fine hairs on his leg objectionable at all, but I was intrigued by the thought of having him wrap smooth legs around me while I fucked him. He only shaved his legs for important matches, with the competition season just now taking off, I hadn't had the pleasure of exploring that experience yet.

"Do you like it because it makes me more like a girl?" He asked bluntly.

"What?"

"Do you like it because it makes it easier for you to pretend you're with a girl when you're fucking me?"

God knew it had nothing to do with that. I didn't fantasize about being with a girl when I was with Heero, I loved that he was a guy, I loved his hard muscles and his hard dick and his deep, throaty moans. Because I was gay, obviously. But Heero didn't know that yet and it was probably for the best if he didn't find out. Still, I decided to tell him honestly: "I don't think about girls when I'm with you." I wasn't sure if he believed me. I noticed he was biting his lower lip. "Do you think about girls while we…?"

He snorted. "That would be kind of a stretch, don't you think? What am I supposed to be fantasizing about? About a girl fucking me with a strap-on?" He laughed uncomfortably and looked away.

I supposed the implication that he didn't think about girls while having sex with me was a good thing, but I was too worried about his forlorn and sarcastic demeanor. Indelicately changing the subject I asked him what he wanted for dinner.

"We still have the ingredients for pasta from Tuesday when someone got a sudden craving for junk food." He looked at me accusingly.

"Sometimes a man just needs a double cheeseburger."

We argued about junk food. Heero, entirely devoted to his health, was vehemently against the consumption of the greasy food but I sometimes had an appetite for it so I felt compelled to defend it. I chuckled remembering how he had grudgingly ordered an overpriced Caesar salad when I had dragged him to the nearest diner and he had eaten it demonstratively, making exaggerated sounds of enjoyment, not knowing that only gave me a hard-on under the table.

We waited for a group of other guys to finish using the kitchen and then we made our pasta – vegetarian at Heero's insistence.

Alone at the kitchen table I reached out and placed a hand on his knee, meanwhile continuing to eat innocently, trying not to smile as I saw him looking at me from the corner of my eye. When he had made no objections I started to rub the thumb back and forth over the rough denim, but pressing hard enough so he could feel it. My plate was empty so I had to give up on my game of pretend. I sat back and watched him chew on his final bite. When he reached for his glass of water to take a sip I moved my hand up his thigh and unceremoniously planted it on his groin. Startled by my sudden, forward act, he spewed water all over the table. "Maxwell," He grumbled, his chin and shirt wet.

I let out a hearty laugh and scooted my chair closer to his. I dutifully dried off his face with a paper napkin, leaning in unnecessarily close. My other hand was still in his lap, massaging a growing bulge. "I want to suck your cock so badly right now," I whispered in his ear.

"Shit. Duo." He eyed the doorway suspiciously. We were in direct view of the staircase, if anyone came down they would see us.

To his visible relief I suggested to head upstairs.

"But the dishes," He protested as I hoisted him up from his seat.

"We're students, Heero. Fuck the dishes." Our housemates sure as Hell didn't give a flying fuck about doing their dishes and keeping the kitchen tidy. With determination I guided him upstairs.

Heero followed me closely, ready to hide behind my taller frame should someone come out of their dorm-room unexpectedly.

I unlocked our door and pushed him inside. I was a little rough with him because I knew we both liked it. I pressed him up against the tall frame of the bunk beds and ravaged his mouth. He was a little unresponsive and reluctant at first but that quickly melted away, the process of him warming up to me aided by me grinding my pelvis against his, our matching erections rubbing together through two coarse layers of denim. He rocked back against me wantonly, even as he said between heated kisses: "I'm really tired… And I still have homework to do."

"Hmhm." I cupped my hands around his face, maneuvering his head as I pleased to properly dominate the kiss. Eventually I had to stop to catch my breath. "It's been long enough."

"It's been less than a week," He pointed out.

"Too long." I captured his lips again.

He welcomed my tongue deep inside his mouth, but only momentarily. "Duo, I can't risk being stiff or sore tomorrow. I really want to beat this guy."

"We don't have to fuck. Like I said, I just really want to suck your dick right now." I promptly got down on my knees in front of him, smirking at his low, drawn-out moan. I made quick work of the button and zipper and then pulled his jeans down. Heero had the habit of not bothering with putting on underwear right after practice. I looked up at him, with the base of his arousal in my hand and I assured him: "I definitely don't think of girls when I'm with you."

He quivered watching me lick his balls and the throbbing length of his erection. He cried out once I took him deep into my mouth. It seemed it really had been too long since his last release – even though he had just argued it had been less than a week – because it was over far too soon. With his fingers dug into my hair he held me in place and came into my mouth.

I pulled back and put my hands on his hips to hold him steady. He was trembling so strongly I worried he would collapse. I unabashedly swallowed his semen. I got up, stroking my hands up his torso, pushing his shirt higher and higher until his chest was exposed and I toyed mischievously with the hard nipples while I kissed him passionately, with his taste still on my tongue. I let him enjoy and ride out the waves of his orgasm before letting go of him and taking a step back.

He adjusted his shirt and started pulling up his jeans. "What about you?"

"Don't worry about it. You go ahead and finish your work. I'll go jerk off in the shower."

"That seems unfair."

"I'm serious, Heero, no worries. Finish your homework and get some sleep, okay? And go kick this guy's ass tomorrow." I smiled at him and gave him a chaste peck on his cheek, then gathered up a towel and a fresh set of night wear and headed downstairs.

I took my time under the warm spray, staying my climax so I could run through every sinful fantasy I could come up with in my head. All involving my Japanese roommate of course.

By the time I got back upstairs I found Heero had collapsed in his bunk bed, still wearing his clothes and shoes. His books lay open on the desk but I couldn't imagine he had gotten much work done, regardless of how lengthy my shower was. It was only nine thirty and he might scold me in the morning for not waking him up and putting him in his chair at the desk, but I decided to let him sleep. As gently as I could I removed his ratty old sneakers from his feet and since he was lying on top of his sheets I pulled the extra blanket off my top bunk and draped it over him. I indulged myself and let my hand run through his silky hair. He nuzzled his nose into the pillow.

I put on an extra vest to compensate for having only a single, thin blanket left and then crawled into bed, hitting the light switch with my socked foot.

When I woke up Heero had gone for his morning run and I noticed the desk had been cleared. He had probably woken up early and had gotten out of bed to finish his school work before heading out for his daily run. I had no idea where he got the motivation and the discipline from. I envied him for that. Heero could do anything he set his mind to, I wasn't quite as devoted.

The classes that morning were particularly dull due to the fact that my poor decision of staying in bed 'just five minutes longer' had caused me to oversleep by half an hour and to make it to the first class in time I had no choice but to skip my pit stop at the coffee shop. Without caffeine I was not a happy camper.

I had to ditch the two classes after lunch because I would be going to the swim meet which was being hosted by the rival university. It was only forty-five minutes away by public transportation. Heero would be on the team bus. He said he had preferred to travel with me, but the coach wanted the team to go together.

I felt silly, wearing mismatched socks, a hideous, graphic shirt, the vest I had slept in and the jeans I had been wearing for the past three days. Blindly grabbing for clothes in the early morning while in a hurry did not elevate my sense of style in the least.

Heero was waiting for me by the campus gate where the team would meet up. He stood by himself while the others had splintered off into groups, talking and laughing. He was in the swim team uniform; baggy navy blue sweatpants and a white and sky-blue hoodie over a simple, white T-shirt. His university-logo bag with his swim jammers, towel, change of clothes and other necessities was at his feet.

"Hey buddy. Ready to kick some ass?"

He shrugged. "I feel rested and ready."

"That's good." I was about to sneak in an inconspicuous, loving touch but stilled when a deep voice called Heero's name. We looked over and saw tall Trowa and his platinum blond boyfriend walk over to us.

"Hey, you remember Quatre, right?"

"Of course. What's up man?" I shook his hand.

"Good." Quatre smiled. "I'm a little nervous. They've been training so hard."

Heero and Trowa seemed utterly unaffected by nerves.

"I know. But it's not important for their qualifications at regionals, right?"

"No," Trowa answered, "Although a sub-par performance by an individual might get them bumped to one of the outer lanes for the regional competition. The ones with the faster average get the center lanes, which are better for fast times."

"Really?"

"Yeah, the water in the outer lanes gets more rippled by the wake of the other swimmers, which makes it more difficult to swim through."

"Huh." I looked at Heero. "Why don't you ever tell me stuff like that?"

"It's not relevant, I'm always in the center lane," was his dry retort.

Quatre placed a hand on my shoulder to get my attention. "Are you also coming this time?"

"Yeah, I skipped classes so I could come." I looked down at my watch. "Which reminds me I should get a head start, my bus leaves in ten minutes and I still have to walk to the bus stop."

"You could come with me," The blonde kindly offered. "I have a car."

"That would be great. Thanks man!"

"No problem. Really. I'm heading there anyway and I have three empty seats."

I grinned. "Looks like I got myself a ride."

The coach blew his whistle and ordered all the swimmers to get on the bus. I watched with envy as Quatre rose on the tips of his toes to give Trowa a quick peck on his lips and the tall man retorted freely: "See you later, babe." I wished I could send Heero off like that. I looked at the object of my affection with a regretful expression. Heero had caught how I had been staring at Trowa and Quatre and seemed to be purposefully ignoring my gaze.

"Come on," Said Quatre, "My car's parked right over there."

I nodded and followed him, looking back over my shoulder several times until I couldn't spot that messy mop of dark hair anymore as he was engulfed by a crowd of taller teammates.

The car was familiar, it was the car I had previously always referred to as 'Trowa's car'. It was the same car the tall swimmer had driven Heero and I to the hospital with years ago when Relena had accidentally drugged him. The vehicle was old and small but it was better than taking the bus.

With a sputter the engine came to life. Quatre was a feisty little chauffeur, catching up with the team bus, weaving through traffic, and following the bus down the highway. He apologized for the broken radio and warned me that the window on the passenger side didn't open.

It was still better than public transportation.

"So, how did you and Trowa meet?" I asked curiously.

He smiled sheepishly. "It's not such a great story."

"Maybe it is to me."

"Alright. The short version is: his father worked for my father and that is how we met."

I made a face. "You're right, that isn't a good story."

He laughed.

"What about the long version?"

"Not much better I'm afraid. Trowa's father is a gardener, who worked at my parents' house for years. He started taking his son with him to work during the summer months when Trowa got older, so he could earn money as our pool boy."

"Wow, gardeners and pool boys?" It reminded me of my own upbringing in an unpleasant way. "Wait… Are you of those Winners? The Winner Corp Winners?"

He chuckled at my befuddlement. "Yeah. I thought you knew. Our fathers have a standing golf date every month, last I heard."

"I'm sorry. I never made the connection. I also can't remember my dad ever telling me Winner had a son my age."

"Don't worry about it. My father never spoke highly of me, or at all, really." He pursed his lips.

I made a face and looked up ahead at the back of the team bus. "That sounds familiar."

"I just had to leave that place, you know?"

I nodded absentmindedly. I wished I had the balls to cut ties with my parents, my father in particular, but the truth was I couldn't cover my tuition without their help. I had come so far, I wanted that diploma, even if a career in architecture was never my aspiration.

"It's not like my father tried to stop me…" He continued.

"Was it because -…" I stopped myself, I didn't want to ask an inappropriate question, since we hardly knew each other, but Quatre insisted I finished my sentence. "Was it because you're gay? Because you are with Trowa?"

He scoffed. "Not at all. My father couldn't care less about my personal life. No, it was the fact that I didn't want to get into the family business that really rubbed him the wrong way."

"God, it's like you're my long lost twin."

He smiled sympathetically.

"So you're on your own now?"

"Yes. Well, not really of course, I have Trowa. And he is all I need." His tone was adoring.

"He's a great guy."

His smile brightened. "Trowa told me you and Heero weren't exactly friends when you met and that you couldn't stand each other, in fact."

"He told you that?"

"He tells me lots of things about you guys, you're his friends. I hope you don't mind him sharing things with me."

"Of course not! I'm just surprised he told you, I find it hard to wrap my head around the idea of a talkative Trowa."

"He's much more chatty than he lets on. With me at least. I think it's just hard for him to open up to others. That's a shame, because a lot of people don't get to see how wonderful he truly is."

"Heero is the same…" I mused. "He puts up such a stoic and stubborn front, when in reality he is the funniest, kindest person I know."

Quatre glanced at him.

"I wish he would let it show, so he could make more friends. I worry about him sometimes."

"He seems pretty happy with just you."

I smiled. The observation warmed my heart. "I hope he is happy. He deserves to be happy." I chuckled nervously. "I don't know what I'd do without him."

After a thoughtful silence the driver wondered: "Isn't he going back to Japan this summer though?"

My mood darkened. "Yeah."

Quatre's eyes were deeply apologetic. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't have brought it up."

"It's okay. There's no running away from it. We knew from the start that our friendship had an expiration date."

"But things have changed since the start," He pointed out. "You're best friends now. Maybe you should reevaluate this 'expiration date'."

With a frown I asked what he meant.

"Hasn't Heero ever considered staying here?"

"He can't, he has to go back to take care of his grandmother."

"Oh, right, yeah. Trowa told me about that." He worried his lower lip between his teeth. "What about you though? Have you ever thought of going to Japan with him?"

I scoffed at the suggestion. "Who moves across the world just for a friend?" I looked out the window again. I wished I could follow him and I would do so in a heartbeat, if not for the fact that I suspected Heero didn't want me to come with him, because what would that mean and what would that imply to others? He was always so scared of people finding out that we were intimate. Worrying about people thinking we were gay would kill him. I didn't want to burden him with those worries. I also didn't want to burden him with me, with having to take care of me. What was I supposed to do in Japan? Where would I live, how would I earn money? How does a foreigner – who doesn't speak Japanese - with average grades from a mediocre university get a job in such a competitive market?

"Right. Sorry. I shouldn't have said anything."

We didn't say anything until we arrived at the competing university. The silence was awkward, but I couldn't think of an any less awkward way to fill it.

After a brief meet-up with Heero and Trowa we took our seats on the bleachers overlooking the indoor pool and we managed to start up conversation again. The new environment helped spark lighthearted topics. We ridiculed the cheerleaders that that the other school had drummed up for the event and we mocked the bright red speedos worn by the competitors, who were first to emerge from the locker room. They were welcomed with cheers, quite a crowd had gathered. Our swim team wasn't nearly popular enough for fellow students to come and support the team, so when our guys – in navy blue swimsuits of their choice – stepped onto the wet, tiled floor the clapping of proud parents and of Quatre and I was overwhelmed by the childish booing of the rest. I had thought Heero's rivalry was private and silly, but it seemed the competitiveness between the two team's best swimmers had instigated quite a feud between the two schools they represented.

We sat through the juniors dueling it out first. No one seemed particularly invested in these matches so Quatre and I, feeling sorry for the younger guys who were swimming their asses off, decided to cheer for them, if only because we got a good laugh out of all the strange looks shot our way.

Trowa and Heero were seated on a bench on the far side across from us, wearing their jammers, their hoodies to keep warm and their goggles around their neck. I noted how they both didn't look like themselves with their hair covered by navy blue caps and without bangs in their face.

Heero would be swimming the shorter distances of the Freestyle, some of the first races between the seniors. Trowa wouldn't be getting into the pool until later, since he had chosen for the longer distances, which were saved for last.

When Heero got up from the bench and rid himself of his vest I felt a sudden wave of nerves. I didn't share his competitive nature, but with all the work that he had put in I knew I would feel awful if he would end up losing.

Heero and his rival stepped onto the platforms of the two center lanes, without acknowledging each other. My friend adjusted his cap, making sure all of his wayward hair was tucked into it, before he put on his goggles. I watched him stretch his arms and roll his neck a couple of times as a final warm-up and then all the swimmers got into position at the first blow of the official's whistle. The race was only one hundred meters, two times the length of the pool, not a lot of room for error.

"Now I'm kind of nervous too," I admitted to Quatre.

He offered me an understanding smile.

The whistle sounded again and the swimmers launched themselves into the water, yet barely making a splash. When he came up I shot up from my seat and started chanting his name and shouting encouragements, even though he probably still couldn't hear me over the roar of cheers from the clad-in-red crowd.

The two were neck and neck and seemed to make the turn into the final stretch at the exact same time. I could not discern any difference in their speed, they both vastly outperformed the other competitors. The entire race was over in about a minute. With their hands hitting the wall to mark their times they came to an abrupt halt. Both stood upright in the water and looked at the scoreboard expectantly as the other swimmers finished. Because their times had been so close it required a recheck but finally the board lit up and Heero's name was first. Behind a computer two officials evaluated the photo finish and gave it a thumbs up.

The winner's reaction was mild even though I and his teammates were screaming in excitement at the top of our lungs. He climbed out of the pool effortlessly and my smile was beaming when the first thing he did was look up at the crowd, his eyes finding me.

The reaction of the runner-up was decidedly less subdued. He hoisted himself out of the water and immediately started pointing an angry finger at Heero, who was unimpressed by his heated antics. The two coaches started in their direction but before they would reach them to calm the situation an insult echoed through the open space.

"You fucking faggot!"

"Oh boy," I muttered and I had barely finished that thought before Heero retaliated in response to the insult. With a dull thud his fist connected with the other's jaw. The guy lost his balance on the slippery floor and tumbled back into the pool. One of the other swimmers of the red team, from the outer lanes, was quick to defend his team captain. Heero never saw him coming and couldn't prepare himself for the fist that came flying his way, hitting him partly on his nose and partly on his eye socket.

The coaches rushed to them and intervened. Trowa came forth as well and when the shouting of insults continued he had to wrap his arms around Heero's waist to restrain him as the Japanese man had intended to take another swing.

"Jesus Christ." I started down the steps to meddle in the brawl. At that point I wanted to hit some of those red-speedo-guys in the face as well.

The coaches managed to separate red from blue. Our team's coach ordered Heero to stay still as he quickly inspected his nose. Blood was flowing from it freely. With a chagrin tone he concluded: "You're fine. Go the locker room and get dressed. You're disqualified."

My friend didn't even object, he pushed Trowa's arms away and stormed off.

When I wanted to follow him into the locker rooms I was stopped by one of the officials but the coach called to them.

"It's fine! Let him go! Go ahead, Maxwell." I had been spectator at so many training sessions and swim meets he knew me pretty well.

It was announced that the two swimmers from the other team, involved in the fight – including the one who made the insult that started it all – were also disqualified and then they tried to continue with the competition. I paid it no heed. I burst through the doors into the locker room, searching for Heero. Not finding him on the benches by the lockers I headed in further, rounding a corner into the shower area. There was a long, narrow space with nearly a dozen private shower stalls on one side and a counter spanning the entire length of the wall with sinks and large mirrors on the other side.

Heero was sitting on the edge of the counter at the far end, holding a handful of balled-up toilet paper to his nose. With a sigh I approached him.

When he noticed I was coming he bowed his head. It was clear he wasn't in the mood to talk, but I didn't care.

Standing in front of him I tried carefully: "Let me look at that." I reached for his hand holding the paper to his face but he leaned back.

"It's fine," He said nasally. "The coach already looked at it, it's not broken."

"Just let me see!"

He cast his gaze up to the ceiling in annoyance but removed his hand and the soiled paper anyway.

His nostrils and upper lip were stained red from the blood, although it had seemed to stop flowing. His cheekbone had already begun to swell and the right side of his nose was showing the first hint of blue, which would only darken and get more hideous.

"How does the other guy look?" He asked with a crooked grin at my displeased expression.

"I don't know, I wasn't really paying attention to anybody else… What the fuck were your thinking?"

"He called me a faggot," He argued.

"So?"

Through gritted teeth he stated: "I'm not a faggot."

"Heero…" I paused and waited for my heart to unclench. "He didn't mean anything with it. Wrong as it is, people just throw around the word 'faggot' as a general insult. It doesn't mean he actually accuses you of being gay."

"It pissed me off."

I rolled my eyes and shot back sarcastically: "I hadn't noticed." It hurt to see him so upset about this single little word. It alluded to underlying issues that worried me. It also hurt me personally that being called 'gay' was the worst insult to him. Did he really think so lowly of homosexuals that the thought of being mistaken for one – let alone being one – was appalling and infuriating? What would he think of me if I ever dared to confess to him that I had come to the realization that I was gay? Would he think so lowly of me too?

Obviously Heero could tell that I was upset, he bit down on his lower lip, not understanding why or how to fix it.

With a hint of resentment I thought to myself: how could he possibly be completely and wholly straight, considering what we have been doing together? But who was I to say that it wasn't possible? Heero certainly seemed capable of compartmentalizing to the point where he would successfully be able to separate sex from all emotions and even attraction. And even if there was the slightest possibility that he was bisexual, or gay, it was not my right to call him out, or to force that kind of epiphany on him. Having recently gone through it, I understood that it was a thought that had to occur naturally, or you would just end up resisting it.

He carefully brought up his hand and touched his nose, wincing even at the slight pressure.

"You know, when I told you to go 'kick some ass', getting into a fist fight with two guys wasn't what I meant," I tried jokingly and I cupped his chin in my hand and tilted his face to closely inspect the forming bruise.

He chuckled softly, almost apologetically.

"When I saw him hit you-…" I clenched my jaw and didn't dare to finish my sentence. What I had nearly said what that I had been ready to beat that guy to a pulp. I had wanted to ride in like a knight in shining armor and save him, but it didn't seem appropriate to confess that to him. He detested my overprotectiveness. I didn't want to make him feel like a damsel in distress. I knew perfectly well he could defend himself. I just wished that he would accept that in spite of his strength – and me knowing how strong he was – I would still always come rushing towards him if anybody hurt him and I would take those blows not because I didn't believe he could handle it, but because I wanted to. Simple as that.

With a sigh I stepped forward, standing between his knees, and I rested my forehead on his shoulder. I smelled chlorine in his damp hair.

"I won the race, though."

I chuckled against his skin. Blatant as the change of topic was, I appreciated the humor and pride in his tone of voice. "Yeah, you did. Does that mean I can fuck you again?" A pleasant tremble passed through me when he encircled me with his arms and scooted closer to the edge of the counter. Absentmindedly I began to kiss his neck and his jaw. He tensed up momentarily, but when he relaxed he brought his arms around me and wrapped his legs around my hips. Spurred on by the closeness my mouth found his and I kissed him deeply.

He whimpered when our noses connected a little roughly, causing me to end the kiss. "I'm sorry," I whispered.

"Don't be, I can take it."

It felt to me like he was still trying to prove to me that he was a man. For some reason he couldn't wrap his head around the fact that I was acutely aware of his masculinity and enjoying it, in fact. I grabbed his head and locked our lips together. I was demanding and dominant, but nevertheless secretly mindful of his offended nose and cheekbone.

"We'd better hurry, or the races will be over and the guys will come in."

I was surprised he was willing to go through with it even as he was consciously aware of the fact that people could come into the locker room at any given moment, if only to check on the wounded swimmer. With my brain still capable of some measure of logic I raised him off the counter and carried him into the shower stall, pinning him against the ocean-green partition. I rocked my hips against his lustfully. I was hungry for him. I was addicted to him.

Heero let go of my shoulders and hooked his arms over the top of the partition between the stalls. He kept his legs tightly wrapped around my torso.

I noticed he hadn't shaved his legs. Clearly Heero was struggling increasingly more with his –perceived – decrease of masculinity. The more he felt his manliness ebbed away, the more he wanted to compensate. The 'faggot' remark couldn't have come at a worse time.

I tried not to think about it, trusting he could work through this. Instead, I focused on the moment, on the charges of electricity at every touch.

Sensing his urgency, which matched mine, I worked open my jeans, just enough to expose the relevant bits and I struggled to rid him off his jammers as they clung to his body, as if trying to protect his modesty. I ended up pulling them down to his knees and then freeing one leg. He secured his legs around me again for support and I unceremoniously spat into my hand and rubbed the saliva onto myself. With a single, powerful thrust – it must have been painful for my lover – I pushed inside him. My own moan of satisfaction overpowered his sharp gasp at the entry. Greedy for more pleasure to fulfill my lust I didn't give him much time to adjust and instead just started pounding into him with wild abandon. Heero didn't seem to mind. His guttural moans soon accompanied mine. Pretty quickly he brought down one hand and wrapped the fingers tightly around his erection. He came first, which I loved because I was still coherent enough to study and enjoy the pleasure visible on his features. It took me a while to follow him. Even though I knew we shouldn't unnecessarily prolong the encounter given the risk of being walked in on and regardless of how eager I was for release, I didn't want it to be over so quickly. I wanted to watch him ride out his orgasm, I wanted him to still feel me moving inside him, touching him in the most intimate way possible and I wanted him to let me and to enjoy it, even after his own need for release had passed.

He was focused on my face, his eyes looked deeply into mine. I wished to God he would see the truth in my eyes, to save me from ever having to face the fear of saying the words out loud; I love you. If only he could discover the truth on his own and take my courage – or lack thereof – out of the equation. But he didn't see anything and perhaps he couldn't be faulted for that, perhaps my eyes were too clouded with lust for anything else to shine through.

When I came, I said his name over and over, like an obsessed mantra.

Our breathing was harsh as we recuperated from the physical strain. I carefully put Heero on his feet but I kept him pinned against the wall with my body, selfishly stealing the moment of closeness and intimacy. Unfortunately that moment was cut short. We both jumped at the sound of a door being thrown open in the distance and the chatter of about a dozen young men. We were only frozen for a split second. Heero pushed me out of the shower stall and locked the door. I fumbled to close the fly of my jeans and then struggled to assume a casual stance with the small of my back against the counter where Heero had previously been sitting. The shower started running and I was clever enough to drape his towel, which was by the wink, over the door of the stall. I leaned back and crossed my arms just in time.

Trowa rounded the corner and walked up to me. "How does it look?"

"Ugly as fuck," I replied. I was sweating and my face must have been red, all I could do was pray he wouldn't notice and question me about it.

He turned to the door. "Heero, are you okay?"

"I'm fine."

He shrugged.

"How, uh, how did your races go?" I inquired.

"Came in first for both of them."

"That's great! Congratulations."

Heero muttered: "Congratulations."

Trowa smiled and then stepped into the neighboring shower stall to clean the chlorine off his body. Soon every shower stall was occupied, two swimmers even had to wait their turn. The coach kept them busy, giving them feedback on their races.

My friend emerged first, soaking wet, with his towel around his waist. "Can you wait outside?"

"Uh, yeah, sure. I'll go find Quatre."

"He's waiting by the car!" Trowa helpfully supplied.

"Thanks." I gave Heero a well-intended, friendly pat on the back but it caused him to glare at me and he threw his gaze pointedly in the direction of the two teammates and the coach who had been watching, admiring Heero's developing bruise most likely. Heero was starting to get so anxious that he feared every little touch or platonic interaction would betray us.

Not particularly sympathetic to his paranoia I rolled my eyes at him and exited the locker room.

I did find Quatre in the parking lot, leaning back against the side of the car. He perked up when he noticed my approach.

"How is Heero handling it?"

"Fine. He can still take pride out of the fact that he won, technically, even though due to his disqualification the race doesn't count."

"How is his face handling it?"

"It looks…" I scrunched up my nose. "It looks angry." I laughed. "The bruise looks angry."

"What got him so upset?"

"Didn't you hear what he called him?"

He snorted. "Of course I heard, everyone did. But why would something like that get him so riled up? It's a derogatory word that doesn't even really refer to him, so why should it insult him? I mean, it's like someone calling you the N-word, isn't it? It's a hurtful word, of course, but it doesn't have the same personal resonance."

I shrugged and looked away awkwardly. "I can't really explain what he was thinking. Though part of me understands. It's not a nice word."

"Hm."

I glanced over and noticed I didn't like the way the short blond was looking at me. His eyes were so… knowing. "There they are," I pointed out after a while, relieved to see Heero and Trowa exit the building and start towards us.

When the two swimmers joined us Quatre kissed Trowa. "You were so great."

"Thanks."

"Heero, you were amazing too. That race was so intense. And so was the aftermath," He remarked sheepishly.

"Yeah," Was all Heero said.

"Heero and I will be driving back in the car with you guys," Announced Trowa. "The coach said it was okay, given what happened."

The coach was probably relieved they didn't have to suffer Heero's dark energy on the bus given that most swimmers were celebrating victories and personal bests.

A few minutes later we were all crammed into Trowa's little car. I wouldn't have minded the coziness of the backseat, if not for the fact that Heero was adamant our bodies didn't touch in any given way, so we were both pressed up against the side, to avoid our shoulders touching on some of the sharper turns. Quatre really was a hasty driver. He and his boyfriend made idle conversation in the front while the backseat was dead quiet. Heero was staring out the window and wouldn't avert his gaze, not even when it started to rain and sheets of water poured down the window and the glass was fogged up.

Quatre kindly made an effort to involve me in his conversation with Trowa, providing me with a distraction from the awkwardness between Heero and I.

I was so jealous of the two of them. I must have practically turned green when Trowa placed his hand over his boyfriend's on the gear lever.

The harsh reality was that it would probably never be like that between Heero and I, because he was either seriously, genuinely straight or he had waded so far into the swamps of denial that he might be stuck in it indefinitely. Either way, it wasn't promising.

We were dropped off at the campus gate and I waved as the car sped off. "He's an aggressive little driver," I observed. "How's your ass?"

He shot me a look.

"It was kind of a bumpy ride and we weren't exactly gentle back there."

"I'm fine," He grumbled, adjusting the strap of his sports bag on his shoulder and starting towards the dorm houses.

"Of course you are." My voice was dripping with sarcasm but Heero barely paid any attention to me. I glanced down at my watch. It was well past conventional dinner time, but we still had to eat. "What are you in the mood for?"

"Hn."

I balled my fists, his demeanor was starting to get on my nerves.

"Anything is fine."

"I'm kind of craving Moroccan. What about you?"

"Sure. Whatever."

"Heero," I lunged forward to catch up with him and took hold of his upper arm. I spun him around. "What the fuck is the matter with you?"

"Nothing! I'm just upset about being disqualified. And my face hurts like a bitch."

I suspected he was not being entirely forthcoming, but I knew there was no point in trying to pry more information out of him. "Fine. You go up to our dorm and pop some painkillers for your face, I'll go get us dinner."

"Thanks." He promptly turned around and walked away.

I muttered something foul under my breath and then retraced my steps back to the gate. The Moroccan take-out place was only two blocks away from the university campus. I got us way too much food, knowing my friend would judge me, but I felt like stuffing my face. Of course I was an emotional eater, I used to be enormously fat after all. The thin handles of the heavy plastic bags cut into my fingers. I quickened my pace because my mouth was watering at the delicious smells wafting around me.

We had dinner up in our room, because the other guys were downstairs, commanding the common rooms with their obnoxious laughter and the smell of a joint being passed around. To fill the silence I made sure to make appreciative sounds with practically every bite.

Soon Heero had eaten his fill and he watched me consume more with a mixture of amusement, wonder and disgust. "If you eat any more you'll get sick."

"Trust me, I won't. My body has adapted to be able to handle these kinds of portions. I'm an evolutionary marvel."

When I was finally done with my meal I boxed the leftovers to put in the refrigerator and gathered the trash in one of the plastic bags. I came back upstairs after putting everything away and exchanging a joke or two with the guys. Heero was seated at the desk, in front of an open textbook, but he had his elbow planted on the page and his chin rested heavily in his palm. He stared out the window, deep in thought, not focused on his studies in the least.

I decided not to bother him, partly because even though I wanted to say something to make him feel better about the entire situation, I didn't know what to say. What do you say to someone who is possibly on the edge of an existential crisis? Not everyone handles it in stride like I did. But I grew up to be rebellious and to embrace defiance, stemming from my hatred for my father. I couldn't wait for the perfect moment to further disappoint him by revealing to him his only child was a homo. Heero was the perfect child, he was not used to disappointing people, he wants to follow the rules because he genuinely respects the rules. I could imagine it being much harder for someone like that to come to grips with the fact that he might be different from the norm and that he will not live up to expectations, especially because of his grandmother. Because he loved her so much he would want her to be proud of him and to support his choices in life. A strict, traditionalist, elderly woman – although loving – couldn't be expected to respect a lifestyle that is still widely considered to be an affront. But he couldn't even test the waters to find out how she would feel about it. The woman was in a late stage of Alzheimer's an barely coherent, even on her best days. She would not be able to express any kind of biting disapproval but the problem was she would also never be able to give her grandson her blessing, which might be exactly what he needed to be able to move forward, if he was starting to come to the same conclusion as I had with regards to my own sexuality.

I got comfortable on his bed and reached for one of the books he keeps on the floor just under the bunk bed that he reads in the evening for enjoyment. The book in my lap was merely a game of pretend as I continued to watch him and I wondered about his inner turmoil. I didn't even know if he was struggling with potential bisexuality or homosexuality – if anyone would be capable of not being fundamentally changed by sex, it would be someone as calculating as my Japanese roommate – but I preferred to believe that he was, since the alternative explanation had my heart clenching painfully. What I thought to be the only other possible cause for his evident distress was him being absolutely, wholeheartedly certain he was straight, but recognizing that I had 'gone over to the dark side', which would leave him with the predicament of trying to find a way to let me down easy without ruining the time we had left to just be friends. I didn't like that alternative at all. He was my first love – and as I imagine to be the case with all first loves, I couldn't imagine ever loving anybody else – it would be devastating to me if my feelings would turn out to be completely unreciprocated.

And just like that I felt incredibly sorry for all my past girlfriends, at least the ones who cherished authentic feelings for me. It must have been horrible for them to be dismissed by me so casually. Before falling in love with Heero I was callous in my rejection, simply because I didn't appreciate how intense and deep-seated those feelings could be. In my lack of understanding I must have been a really horrible guy, I realized in hindsight, now that I was being threatened with heartbreak of my own. My own personal catastrophe. I even started to sympathize with Hilde. For the first time I understood how severely one person could love another and even though her lie was hurtful and unforgivable, I was starting to see how a kind of overpowering, stupendous love like that could make a person resort to desperate, ugly acts to keep that loved-one close.

Finally he seemed to snap out of it. With a sigh he straightened in his seat and he blinked at the open pages of dull text.

I focused on my own book intently, pretending not to be acutely aware of him looking at me over his shoulder. I had been expecting a crass comment about 'stinking up his bed', but he didn't say anything and instead quietly worked on one of his many school projects before we both agreed it was time to go to sleep.

It was weekend and I had to work at the on campus bar both Saturday and Sunday night. Luckily I was scheduled alongside Obie, as long as he could refrain himself from prying, I knew it could be fun and it was. On Sunday evening his young wife Jenny even appeared at the bar and stayed there until closing. Her presence kept the conversation light and she was easy and amusing to talk to. Meanwhile Heero was at his dad's place for their weekly dinners. However, when I received a curt message from him letting me know he was spending the night at his dad's a miserable, nagging concern overcame me. But if he needed space than I had to respect that I planned to experiment with how much space and time I should give him to deal with whatever issue that was burdening him.

"God afternoon, Goddess of the universe," I quipped Monday at lunch when I stepped into the university library and approached the lady at the desk.

"Lord Maxwell, master of my minions," She bantered. "What sacrifice have you come to offer me?"

I knelt down before the desk and reached out a wrapped sandwich that I knew to be her favorite. I didn't care about the group of other students that was watching with apparent judgment on their features, who would ridicule me as soon as I was out of earshot.

"Seven blessings upon thee," She accepted the lunch and waved her hand as if she was holding a magic wand.

With a laugh I got up and backed away the first few steps, with bowed head, before walking off. I crossed through the open space and took a right into the narrow hallway that led to our private study room all the way in the back. If anything I kind of hoped Heero's father had behaved like an asshole the night before, true to form, so that would take some of the heat off me and Heero and I could once again bond over how much we detested our fathers, instead of me chasing after him like a lovesick puppy and him basically trying to beat me away with a stick because he's afraid I'll bite.

At the door I looked through the window into the room. My hand was already on the doorknob, but my brain registered what my eyes were seeing and my entire body froze; I couldn't move and I instantly felt cold, right to the bone.

Heero was at the far end of the room, standing behind a girl that he had bent over the table. While he was mostly dressed, the hem of her frilly skirt was pushed up to her waist and one side of her top and one cup of her bra was forced down, showing her pale breast. Her wavy, strawberry blond hair fell in front of her face and moved back and forth with their movement. His look was one of complete concentration. When my heart stopped beating I could hear them. I could hear her high pitched moans, that she failed to bite back. I could hear his grunts. I could hear the table shudder on its legs with every thrust.

All of a sudden he looked up and he looked right at me. His expression betrayed his shock, but only for a split-second, then his face became unreadable. He kept looking me right in the eyes, even as he wrapped his arm around her, grabbing a handful of soft breast, and pulled her upright, her arched back against his chest. His steel gaze was relentless.

I had half a mind to barge right in and scare that girl away but the scene wasn't orchestrated by her. Heero must have known I would join him in the study room for lunch, I always did after all. As shocked as he was when he first spotted me, he must have planned it. He wanted me to see it. It was a clear message, although he had no idea how hurtful. He was telling me in the most definitive way he knew how that he was a man, a straight man. Whether he was putting up a show for himself as much as he was for me, I didn't know and I found no solace in either possibility.

I stared right back, trying to remain strong even as I wanted to crumple down to the floor, ball myself up and wail pathetically in a way that my old – pre-love – self would find repugnant. I had no qualms about conveying one fragment of the prism of feelings I was experiencing, namely anger. I had the right to be angry because we had agreed, way back when we concocted this arrangement, that we would be exclusive. He violated that agreement. In reality that didn't even scratch the surface of what I was going through. I felt cheated, cheated by my great love. But I couldn't even hold that over him because he never agreed to a loving, committed, long-term relationship, that was all just in my head. So I was as angry at him as I was at myself.

He kept fucking her. She was oblivious to me standing right outside the door.

Realizing that continuing to stand there, nailed to the floor, wouldn't only add to my own pain but was also unfair to the girl who was put in a compromising position in which she wouldn't want to be seen by a third party, I decided to do us both a favor and I left.

With heavy feet, heavy arms, heavy head and heavy heart, I walked away.

When I reached the exit, the librarian, only halfway through her meal, called out my name and asked me what was wrong. My complexion must have been pale and my expression distraught.

I couldn't even be bothered to put her at ease by faking a smile and forcing a joke, I just walked out the door, dumping the two other sandwiches in a trash bin outside.

I skipped on the final two classes of the day. I was afraid I might suddenly become a sniveling, emotional wreck and if that were to happen I preferred it to happen in private, so I went to our dorm room. I didn't know what to do with myself, mostly I was torn between crying my eyes out and punching something but I didn't have the energy for either, really. After standing in the middle of the room, staring, detachedly, into thin air for longer than I cared to admit I dropped down in my desk chair, with my shoulders slumped. What started to take center stage was how foolish I felt. Foolish for thinking something more was blossoming between us. Foolish for thinking that it would be that – relatively – easy to find the love I had been looking for my entire life; in my closest friend. I should have known better than to hope, I had been disappointed often enough for the lesson to have hit home.

I wasn't prepared for him to come home as soon as he did. He must have only had one class after lunch, but I had figured he would have known better than to get too close to me. Surely, even though the depth of my hurt were lost to him, he must have recognized his actions would have upset me. Whatever the case, whatever he must have been thinking, or feeling, he stepped into the room, closing the door behind him and leaning back against it.

He didn't say a single word, not a single, damn word. He appeared to be waiting, waiting for me to tear into him.

He didn't have to wait long. I obliged him, needing an outlet to vent at least one of the myriad of emotions I was going through. "What the fuck is wrong with you?" I demanded harshly.

Heero held his head bowed, his hands behind him, pressed between his lower back and the solid door.

"What was that little show about?"

He didn't answer.

I chuckled bitterly. "I don't understand you." I shook my head. "I thought I knew you through and through but I don't understand you. I don't understand any of this. What was the point of that show-and-tell back there?"

His shoulders moved in a barely perceptible shrug.

"This is so fucked up! You are such an ass! To me and to that girl!"

He wasn't about to defend himself, he wisely kept his mouth shut. There was no defense that could have quelled my anger.

I was chuffing through my nose with every breath like an angry beast. "We agreed this thing between us would be exclusive."

He nodded meekly.

"You broke the rules!" I hammered in.

Another nod.

His submissive demeanor only served to enrage me more, because it made me feel like he didn't care about risking the physical intimacy between us and that he wasn't willing to stand up for it and try to save it. "It's over!" I shouted. "It's fucking over! And let's hope we can go back to being friends after fucked-up stunt yours. Jesus." I buried my face in my palms. "I can't even look at you without seeing… her."

I looked up at the sound of a soft click and I saw Heero had left, he had slipped out the door. He hadn't said a single word. He didn't even bother to fight for us. There was no 'us', he made sure of that.

In the following week we made an unsettling discovery. We couldn't go back to just being friends. We couldn't rewind. We couldn't retrace our steps back to square one. Everything between us had changed on a fundamental level, although in different ways for me than for him. I couldn't pretend nothing had happened. My entire life had been turned upside down thanks to our sexual adventure. I had learned two very important things; I wasn't straight and Heero wasn't just 'Heero, my friend'. He was Heero, my first love. A love I didn't want to let go of or lose hope for, but he wasn't giving me much choice.

It wasn't like we talked about it, we hardly exchanged words, it was too awkward for him and too painful for me. His well-intended attempt to mend things between us fell flat because we were stiff and visibly uncomfortable and we couldn't slip back into our old, trusted pace. We were out of step, out of tune. I didn't understand him and he didn't understand me and every promising conversation was stunted when one of us accidentally said something that made the other uneasy; his face went beet red when I made the mistake of making a sexual joke in a casual manner; I had to turn away when he mentioned Trowa and Quatre – who shared a relationship I envied – in passing manner.

So I hadn't just lost my love, I had lost my friend as well. Although rationally I had been aware of the possibility that our friendship could be damaged when I suggested this friends-with-benefits thing, I never worried much. Obviously I could have never predicted how things turned out. I couldn't have predicted falling in love with him. Although in hindsight maybe I should have, Heero was perfection and even his imperfections were perfect – at the very least endearing – to me. As difficult as Heero had been to like when we first met, it had become impossible for me not to love him, no matter how much I wanted to hate him.

What didn't help was that everyone and their mother immediately took notice of our lack of chemistry and constantly asked me about it. I didn't know what to say to them. I couldn't tell them the truth, but they weren't buying the blatant lie of 'Nothing is wrong' either. Just what I needed, more difficult conversations and pregnant silences.

On Saturday I had another shift at the bar. I sent Martin home early, it was a quiet evening, not a lot of guests and God, he was just so annoying. He'd start in on a self-righteous monologue if the clean glasses on the counter weren't perfectly lined up, or if the bottles didn't have their label facing forward, or if I didn't stop a guest from munching down all the peanuts in the bowl on the bar.

At one point I had screamed at him: "Let the man have his peanuts!"

As the hour started to get late, nearing closing time, only a couple was left, seated at the table in a dark corner, absolutely gushing over each other. It was disgusting. I glared at them – although they were completely unaware of my attention or even my presence – while I plunged my hands into the warm water in the sink and started scrubbing on glasses angrily, suds flying every which way.

She laughed at something her boyfriend said. It was this high pitched giggle. She even twirled her hair and batted her eyelashes.

I'm so fucking gay, I thought to myself. I was never spellbound with girls the way most guys were, but it had gotten to a point where I was just repelled by the stereotypical antics, I just didn't find it cutesy or endearing. I much preferred watching Heero. Even watching him get dressed was a thrill, his movements were so smooth and purposeful and with a hidden power; the muscles under his skin were like coiled springs.

Yes, definitely gay.

I was relieved when a new customer came through the front door. It was starting to get more than a little awkward being alone with the frisky couple. It was a surprise to see that the customer was Trowa. Since Heero had already informed me that neither Trowa nor his boyfriend consumed alcohol, I wondered what his business was at the campus bar. I feared it had something to do with me. I liked Trowa and all, but he wasn't an easy guy to talk to. He was similar to Heero in that regard, but I knew Heero much better than I knew him, with him I knew how to shimmy past the stoic barrier. Or I used to…

"Hey man, what's up?"

Trowa nodded as a way of greeting and took a seat at the bar, right across from where I was standing at the sink. He put his sports bag down on the barstool next to him and ran a hand through his damp hair. Swim practice had just ended.

"Would you like a drink?"

"I don't drink."

"Not even water?" I deadpanned.

"I'm not here for a drink."

"Well… That doesn't leave much for you to do. The sole purpose of this establishment is for people to come and have a drink." My wit was bland and inappropriate. Heero would have thought it mildly amusing, but this wasn't Heero I was talking to and besides, my friend wasn't really amused by me as of late anyway. And the feeling was mutual.

"So you're in love with Heero."

My jaw dropped and my eye must have twitched. I wondered if I was having a tiny stroke because surely I hadn't just heard him blurt such an incriminating statement. He didn't even have the decency to phrase it like a question. "Wha- Whaaat?"

At my blatant confusion he explained: "Quatre told me."

"Who told Quatre?" I shot back dumbly.

"You, more or less. He assured me it was pretty obvious."

After I spent an embarrassing stretch of time stuttering, I managed: "Is gaydar a real thing?"

"Gaydar?" He snorted at the notion. "Quatre said you were practically drooling over him and certain remarks about the relationship between the two of you got you more than a little perturbed."

"He said that?"

"Yes."

"Well, you can go tell him that I said he is wrong." I was my quasi-clever attempt to nullify the accusation.

His stare was unnerving. "I'll tell him you're a liar, if you want me to."

I was dumbstruck yet again. What was happening? More stuttering followed.

"Look," With a dismissive wave of his hand he silenced me. "I didn't come here to make you feel uncomfortable. My intention was only to give you some advice."

I waited for said advice.

"Forget about it."

My brow furrowed. "What kind of advice is that?"

He shrugged. "I just don't think Heero is gay, that's all."

I pointed out dryly: "You just basically told me gaydar isn't really a thing."

"Sure. But for the past four years I've seen Heero be around over a dozen naked, wet and fit guys and he has never given any of them a second look."

"That doesn't have to mean anything…" I muttered.

"Maybe. I just wanted to warn you." He sighed. "You're a really nice guy and your friendship with Heero is enviable," He said genuinely, "I don't want to see you guys ruin that."

"Has he said anything to you?"

"No, but he's been miserable."

My heart sank.

"And everyone who knows the two of you has taken notice that the past week you have been distant towards each other and clearly it's affecting the both of you."

I leaned forward heavily, looking away. "You really think he isn't gay?"

"I think the small chance isn't worth risking your friendship for."

I worried my lower lip between my teeth. "You're probably right."

Trowa almost looked remorseful. He clearly didn't enjoy being the bringer of bad news. He rapped his knuckles on the bar in rapid succession, awkwardly filling the silence. "I should head home." He grabbed his bag and flung it over his shoulder. Apologetically he added: "I'm sorry about this." Then he turned and walked away as abruptly as he had entered.

Forget about it? I asked myself. How the fuck was I supposed to do that?


	18. Chapter 18

**Thousand Words**

**Chapter eighteen**

I heard him get out of bed in the early morning. I was facing the wall and I didn't turn around to spy on the morning ritual that I usually loved to watch. Somehow I could feel him looking at me, at the back of my head. There was no rustle of clothing or the taut, tense sound of shoestrings being tightened. It was silent and it remained silent for a long time. Staring at the wall I hoped he assumed I was asleep and didn't expect anything from me. Talking to him had become increasingly difficult. To point where I couldn't recall saying a single word to him for the past two days. I could tell he still wanted us to be friends, he wanted the closeness we had shared in the past, but he accepted the distance I required. I suspected he knew his actions had hurt me more deeply than they should have; than they would have if friends-with-benefits was really all we ever were to me. He was willing to give me time but I wasn't sure if time was really the solution. I could never forget, so how could I go back?

A horrible thought had started to occur to me, that it would be easier once he would leave, once he would go back to Japan. At least then I wouldn't have to look at him anymore and at the same time I wouldn't have to feel guilty about not trying to make this post-trauma friendship work. I didn't want him to leave, I would never want him to leave, but I didn't exactly enjoy being around him, with the situation as it was.

There were footsteps and then the door opened and closed and he was off for his run, living his life no different from before. He still went for his morning run, had swim practice in the late afternoons and evenings and spent his remaining time on school work. I expected his grades wouldn't falter. In the meantime, I had been skipping classes and calling in sick for work as often as I could without getting kicked out of school or getting fired from my job.

Heero asked me what was wrong the third day I skipped classes and I nearly bit off his head stating that people were allowed to get sick and stay in bed. I was angry at him for asking. Not really of course, I was angry at him for fucking that girl.

I stayed in bed until Heero came back for fresh clothes and a towel and left again to take a shower.

I stayed in bed until Heero came back upstairs from his shower and fetched his books and headed off to the library to study; in that room, the room.

When he closed the door I heaved myself out of bed and got dressed lazily. I went downstairs to make myself an unhealthy breakfast. As I was frying bacon, Nash stepped into the kitchen to get a supersized can of sweet energy drink from the refrigerator to get his morning started. He popped the can open and adjusted the strap of his bag on his shoulder absentmindedly.

"Dude, you've been looking like shit lately."

"Dude?" I repeated bitterly. "Don't you mean 'chunky'?"

He chuckled sheepishly. "Come on man, you know that was all fun and games. And that pic of misses Maxwell was priceless. He owes me for posting that, people actually like him now, it humanized him."

I sighed at having him jokingly refer to Heero as 'misses Maxwell'. I always thought it was funny, but the joke had turned bitter and the fact that constant joking like that had caused the kind of crippling insecurity and doubt in Heero that made him assert his masculinity the way he did, made it difficult to stomach. Delayed as my reaction was – lost in my own thoughts – I snapped at him: "Stop calling him my fucking wife, okay! It's not funny anymore!"

Completely unintimidated he took another sip of his energy drink and eyed me suspiciously. "Relax, bro. And maybe you shouldn't eat all of that, given your history, you should be mindful of love handles."

I turned around and whipped a loaf of bread at him, simply because it happened to be what I was holding in my hand.

He ducked in time, the bread hit the wall behind him and he scampered off laughing.

I looked down at myself. Eating the way I had been wasn't good for me. It hadn't started to show yet, but it was a dangerous habit from the past that I shouldn't pick up again. The bacon was promptly dumped in the trash and I took upstairs with me an unsatisfying bowl of bland cereal – Heero's cereal.

Being heartbroken was exhausting, I realized.

Around noon I started to get ready to face the outside world. I knew it was probably better not to skip the particular class that I had at one o'clock, we were getting our grades for a recent project and if my emotional state had clouded my abilities and led to a poor grade I should make good use of the opportunity to beg the professor for leniency and understanding. After a hot shower I hurried upstairs in my towel, leaving a trail of wet footsteps. The shower had taken a little longer than it was supposed to. I needed to make haste. With my jeans unbuttoned and unzipped around my hips and wearing a wrinkled shirt fresh from the clean pile of laundry not only inside-out but backwards as well, hopping around in untied shoes – without socks – I tried to tame and braid my hair. I frowned at the messy, matted and still damp result in the mirror. It was a physical strain not to let myself fall backwards into my chair and give up on trying to make it to this class for all the wrong reasons.

I stumbled towards the door and when I opened it I nearly fell backwards with fright as there was a person standing right behind it and I hadn't been expecting that.

Hilde had her fist in the air. She had been about to knock on my door and looked startled herself, although more composed. Comically she held her fist up for a stretch of time before putting both hands in the front pockets of her jeans, adopting a shrinking, apologetic stance. "Hey."

"Uh… Hi." It had been a while since I had to deal with her and honestly time had healed my wounds, but the scars were still ugly and even though they no longer hurt, they did still make me resentful.

"I haven't been seeing you around a lot lately."

I was unsure if she was referring to me skipping a lot of classes as of late or if she was talking about the coincidence that we haven't been accidentally running into each other since the party at our dorm house. Ambiguously I shrugged and replied: "Yeah."

"I think it's really time for us to talk," She asserted.

I scrunched up my face. "Why?" It wasn't like I detested the idea, but I didn't understand the timing. Especially since I hadn't even been giving her much thought these past weeks, I had other things on my mind. For me, the encounter came out of the blue, but it seemed she had really been thinking about this.

"Because we have less than three months left before graduation and I want us to get the chance to fix things between us before we all go our separate ways."

"Fix it?"

She sighed. "I don't mean for us to get back together. I just want us both to make our peace with what happened. I'm afraid that if we leave it as it is, we will both deeply regret it one day. We used to be friends, after all, right?"

"Of course we were," I emphasized the past tense.

Getting a little combative – exactly the way I remembered her from when we were, indeed, great friends – she pushed right past me into the room and turned around with her hands on her hips.

I sputtered incoherent objections until I finally managed: "I'm kind of in a hurry right now."

She looked at my disheveled clothes. "Obviously. But what's the big deal? You've been missing a lot of classes anyway."

So she had noticed. Reluctantly I closed the door and leaned back against it. I folded my arms in front of my chest and stared at her expectantly. I knew there was no point trying to convince her to leave on her own accord. Unless I dared to risk being caught dragging a kicking, screaming and cursing woman out of the dorm house I was going to have to suffer this little talk. It was easier just to bite the bullet. And part of me knew she was right, it would be better to resolve things between us, but it was all happening a little too soon and a little too untimely for my liking.

She grabbed Heero's desk chair and maneuvered it so she could sit down and face me. She paused, to regain her composure or to rehearse her point one last time. I knew Hilde as impulsive and chaotic, traits that had often gotten her into her trouble, the fact that she was giving this careful consideration really confirmed how important this was to her.

"First off," She finally started, "I really want you to understand that I am not doing this with any kind of intention of starting up another romantic relationship with you."

"Good." Because I'm a fucking fairy, so it wouldn't happen anyway.

"That being said… last year, I was so in love with you that I had to have you. I had to keep you close and I was willing to go to any extreme. I don't know if you know what that kind of love is like…"

"I do now…" I muttered.

She gave me an odd look, but then continued: "Then you know that sometimes love can make a person do crazy things." She shook her head and corrected herself: "No, the fear of losing that love can make you do crazy things."

The whole 'losing love' topic was a little raw and painful for me, so impatiently I asked her to get to her point.

"I know it sounds like I'm just making excuses for my behavior. That's not what I want. I just want to explain to you what happened and what was going through my head. I think… I think it might help you move on. That is all I want. I don't need you to forgive me, I just need you to have all the information, so you won't end up wondering and filling in the blanks yourself, which would only leave you with more resentment, I think." She was starting to ramble, but it was exactly how I remembered her and I kind of liked hearing her fast paced, sometimes disjointed words.

I raised my eyebrow at her. Seriously, get to the point, I thought.

"When I told you I was pregnant, I didn't lie," She blurted. "It wasn't the truth, but I didn't lie. I really thought I was pregnant. I had missed my period and I was feeling ill. I had switched to new birth control and I thought that maybe it hadn't been working properly. I wasn't going to tell you, not until I had gone to a doctor, or had taken a test. I was afraid of what a positive result would mean for my life. I- I felt like I knew, I was certain, but still, to have it become real like that, that scared the shit out of me. I kept postponing it the way you postpone going to the dentist, even as the cavity starts to hurt. In the meantime, I felt you were drifting away from me. The same way you always drift away from girls. As your friend, I had seen it happen before, I had seen from the outside what you started to behave like once you had gotten bored with a girl and our relationship started to look like that more and more every day."

I had broken a lot of hearts in my past. Something I had started to feel guilty for. If I had only realized I was gay sooner, I could have saved myself and many girls a lot of heartbreak.

"When you invited me to that coffee shop," She chuckled bitterly, "Your 'break-up-coffee-shop', I couldn't…" She took a deep breath. "In that moment, I felt like I was about to lose the love of my life, but end up with his baby anyway – to raise all by myself. I didn't want to tell you at first, that I shouldn't force you to stay with me for the wrong reasons, but then Relena-"

Of course.

"Relena convinced me that I should tell you, that it would be best for all of us. All 'three' of us. She filled my head with these stories about how amazing it could be; a little family. And that, in the end, it wouldn't matter that you were about to break up with me, that having a baby together would make you fall in love with me all over. I wanted that. Because I loved you so much." She leaned in to touch my knee.

I practically squirmed.

"When I told you, you were shocked of course, but you were so happy." It was at that point that she started to cry. "I really thought we would be happy together."

"But then? When did the lying start?" I bit, I was unaffected by her tears. Honestly, Hilde could cry at the drop of a head, during our deceitful relationship she had proven herself to be an excellent actress.

She sighed. "I went to the doctor not long after I told you."

"How long?" I insisted.

"Less than a week. He tested me and told me I wasn't pregnant. He explained that the change of birth control had affected my hormonal balance, which had caused me to skip a period. The sickness… he said it had probably just been stress, or a mild flu or something."

I snorted. "Why didn't you tell me that, when you found out?"

"How was I supposed to! Jesus, Duo, you were so excited, you might've taken up knitting, to make baby clothes!"

"Oh come on, don't try to sell me the horse crap that you lied to me for months for my own sake."

"Of course not! I was selfish, okay?" She admitted with trembling lower lip. "I know I was selfish! But at the time, all I could think of was that image of a happy family being torn to pieces. We weren't going to have a baby and I knew that once that would be revealed, I would lose you. I didn't want to lose you. I wanted to hold on to that image. I still wanted that, I still wanted you as my future husband and the father of my children. I knew the truth would come out eventually, but I figured I would have some time to figure out the best way to tell you and perhaps get you to stay with me. But time went by so fast and pretty soon we were past the point when I could tell you without making you hate me, so it was… easier to stretch the lie as long as I could."

I took a deep breath. I wasn't sure if I believed her, if I should believe her. That was the saddest thing about the lie she had fed me – and fed me so convincingly – I couldn't trust her anymore. I wasn't sure what to do with this information, whether or not it was truthful. It all seemed rather pointless and useless and irrelevant in my life the way it was. I could tell she was expecting this news to rock the foundations of my existence, but I felt underwhelmed. The only real, honest impact it had on me was the realization that I shouldn't let Heero go back to Japan before sorting things out between us, even though it was easier to just let him fade away and wait for the painful ache in my heart to dull. No good could come from doing things just because they are easier. I could continue to ignore him and pretend to myself that I hated him, but that was no solution as there was no truth to that. I still loved him, that is why it would have to resolved. And therein lay the difference between my traumatic break-up with Hilde and my traumatic break-up with Heero. I didn't love Hilde anymore, I never even loved her to begin with, not in the way I should have.

"So…" She drawled uncomfortably.

I had let the silence drag on for a little too long.

"That's what I needed you to know. And I needed you to know I am sorry."

"I believe you are sorry," I replied and said no more. The implication that I didn't believe the story as she had confessed it to me was clearly hurtful to her, but she seemed to accept that she could not expect anything other than distrust from me. With a sigh I took hold of the doorknob. I didn't have to hurry to my class anymore, it had already started and coming in late would not aid the sole reason I would have had to attend the class, namely to grovel in hopes of improving a grade. But I wasn't eager to prolong the uneasy encounter with Hilde.

Understanding that I wanted her to leave she got up and stood in front of me. "I hope you'll find the girl you are looking for," She mused wistfully. "I'm sorry I wasn't her."

"I'm not looking for any girl," I stated dryly. I didn't worry she would fully understand the implications of my comment, she would just figure I wasn't looking for a relationship. After all, the entire student body appeared to be aware that 'player' Duo Maxwell hadn't been dating anyone for a long time.

She offered me a sad, apologetic smile. Completely unexpectedly she leaned in. With my eyes comically wide I watched her face near mine and then I felt her soft lips against my own.

It was in that exact moment that the door to the dorm room swung open suddenly.

From the corner of my eye I could see Heero standing in the doorway. Hilde couldn't pull away in time to spare us the embarrassment of being 'walked in on'. With her head ducked between her shoulders she muttered a poor excuse of a greeting at my roommate as she slid past him, out the door and left with hurried steps.

I turned my head to look at Heero. He was still standing there, dumbstruck, with the doorknob still in his hand – his white-knuckled hand. He was staring right back at me, his expression betrayed everything as he looked me up and down. With sadness, anger, fear and jealousy he observed my undone jeans, my inside-out shirt and my tousled hair. I knew what he was thinking and I could see the questions in his blue eyes. I prevented myself from acting on my first instinct, which was to sheepishly ensure him that nothing substantial had happened between Hilde and I and that the disheveled clothes were a mere result of my vain attempt to make it to class on time. With a biting tone I made an ambiguous apology. "Sorry you had to walk in on that." Casually I moved back to the desk and dropped down in my seat. I busied myself with decluttering the surface.

"What was she doing here?" He questioned, closing the door behind him. His voice was flat and monotonous, which I knew meant he was upset.

"She wanted to make things right between us." Expert at a game of pretend I decided to demonstratively zip up my jeans, even fumbling with the button to make sure he noticed what I was doing. I enjoyed giving him a taste of his own medicine. It was clearly as bitter a discovery as mine had been. With a naïve spark of hope I wondered what that meant.

"She wanted to get back together with you?"

"No, I don't think she is looking for a serious relationship." My phrasing was careful to enforce the image of me and Hilde that must have been plaguing him.

"But you had sex with her?" He asked incredulously and the tone of his voice went up to a high, hurtful pitch.

I swiveled around in the chair, forming my expression into something unreadable. "Why do you care? You fucked that girl in the library."

At that remark he cringed like I had just punched him in the gut.

Even though I ultimately wanted to restore our friendship, seeing him in obvious pain did make me feel vindicated and I continued: "You wanted us to be over, right? That's what that little show was about," I got up from my seat and took a step towards him. "Right?"

He looked down at the carpeted floor, his expression confused and distraught.

"So what if I fuck Hilde? Or Mandy, or Sasha?" I took another step closer, watching him shrink, ducking his head between his shoulders. "Or Rick or Steven?"

He looked up at me, his eyes wide and shocked at my very near coming-out. Then he looked back down again. It was clearly difficult for him to look me in the eyes, especially with me standing so close to him. I could feel the tension between us. We were both panting softly, our hands balled into fists at our sides.

"Are you jealous?" I didn't expect him to respond, but he did, with a meek:

"Yes."

His honest reply startled me and I felt some – if not most – of my anger dissipate in favor of a nervous kind of hope. I looked down at where I suddenly felt his hand on me, his fingers barely touching the loose fabric of my shirt in an insecure, indecisive way. He looked scared. Scared of me and scared of himself - of his own feelings. "Why did you have sex with that girl?"

He refused to look at me, but he started to pinch the fabric between his fingers until eventually he grabbed a handful of my shirt, twisting his fingers into it. He wasn't tugging me closer to him, but he seemed to want to make sure that I wouldn't leave either. "I thought that if I had sex with a girl I'd feel-"

With a look I urged him to finish that thought.

"Different," He finished rather meaninglessly, but he elaborated: "I thought I wouldn't want you anymore."

I was breathing harshly through my nose at that point. I inched closer to him. "But you do still want me?"

Heero looked at me again, his eyes honest. "Yes."

I took the final step forward, pressing our bodies together. I felt the tip of his nose against my chest and then under my chin as he kissed my neck. My hands were twitching at my sides, twitching to touch, but I needed him to understand something first: "I'm still angry with you." I felt him nod. "You broke the rules." Another nod. "I was really hurt by what you did."

"I'm sorry," His voice was a pathetic whisper.

Yearning for more closeness and more intimacy, I got a little overzealous and pushed him back against the frame of the bed and put my hands on him while I ravished his mouth. My hands were everywhere, like they had a mind of their own but couldn't decide where they wanted to settle. Eventually I used them to squeeze his buttocks and grind his pelvis against mine and I loved how we both moaned in unison, equally desperate.

Soon I started tearing clothes off him; literally tearing. Neither of us were bothered by the ripping sounds as I rid him of his button-up shirt and the long sleeve T-shirt underneath. He returned the favor and ruined my shirt as well. I was actually quite turned on by the way the fabric tore away from my torso, grazing my heated skin.

My jeans were undone again and easily pushed down to my knees and I felt a wave of excitement surge through my body as Heero disconnected our mouths and kneeled down in front of me. I let him kiss the outline of my erection through my briefs but then I decided: "No, turn around."

My request confused him but he didn't object. He turned around, leaning his elbows on the mattress of the lower bunk.

I knelt behind him and put my hands on his hips. I felt him shiver with thrill as I rocked into him, my arousal pressed between his buttocks. After a few thrusts I couldn't take it anymore and I unzipped his jeans and pushed them down his thighs along with his underwear. As I got my own out of the way I asked him: "Were you safe with the girl?"

"What?"

"Did you use protection?"

"Yes."

I nodded, too eager to really worry about it.

"What about you, were you safe with Hilde?" He inquired.

"I didn't have sex with Hilde."

My confession surprised him and probably only made him feel more guilty about what happened at the library.

"I don't want Hilde. Or Mandy, or Sasha, or Rick, or anyone. I only want you."

He moaned, pressing his face into the mattress.

Since the lube was within reach I got it from the drawer of the desk and used a liberal amount, I accidentally used so much that most of the cold liquid dripped off the head of my dick before I pressed it against his opening.

When I pushed into him slowly he let out a deep moan so loud it was a good thing the sheets and the mattress muffled the sound, or else someone might have heard.

He felt so good. No one had ever given me more pleasure. My hands started to wander again while my hips remained unmoving. They slid up his back and stroked his sides, felt the ribs underneath the skin with each hitched breath. When my hips started to move it was in long, deep, powerful thrusts. Heero's erection, dripping with need, swung back and forth between his legs.

With one arm around his waist I pulled him upright, his back against my chest. I grabbed his chin and made him turn his head so I could kiss him over his shoulder. The kiss was sloppy and uncoordinated so I paused my movements to focus on teasing his tongue into a battle, a battle he eagerly participated in. He was threatening to win too if I hadn't cheated by distracting him; running my hand up his chest and pinching and rolling his nipple between my fingers. My hand traveled back south and enclosed around his cock, at which point he broke the kiss and could do little more than moan against my lips. I knew we were both ready for release, so I started to pound into him again and as I fucked him he fucked my hand.

"Is it better than with a girl?" I asked his breathlessly. When he didn't answer I bit his earlobe to get his attention and restated my question.

"Shut up," He groaned and added on the verge of anger: "I'm not gay."

"That is not an answer to my question. Is it better than with a girl, Heero?" I demanded, picking up the pace, getting him closer and closer to the edge. "Tell me baby, is it better?"

"Ah! Yes! It's better!"

Possessively, I continued: "Then promise me you won't fuck another girl while you're with me."

He groaned and hissed as the pleasure built. "I won't! I promise."

"Because you're mine," I growled.

There was no reply – so no objection either. He threw his head back. His mouth was wide open, so I was expecting a scream, but the only sound he emitted was a sharp gasp and I felt him get impossibly tight around me and the warmth of his release leaked over my hand.

With a satisfied grunt I followed him over the edge. I held him against me tightly, my arm wrapped around his heaving chest, his slick back against my sweaty chest. I kept stroking my hand up and down, milking him. I couldn't explain why, but I loved feeling him come in my hand. I loved being able to make him come in my hand.

I had my nose buried into the damp hairs at the nape of his neck and I whispered: "Don't ever cheat on me again." It was not a threat, it was a plea. I wouldn't be able to handle it. Perhaps 'cheat' wasn't even a fair word to use, giving our 'arrangement', but it felt like the right word; it matched the hurt I felt.

He didn't say anything, but he covered my hand with his and it reassured me. I held him tighter to me still and kissed his neck.

He allowed the closeness longer than he ever had in the past and I took all I could get and I took it greedily, but eventually he said that we should take a shower, so with difficulty I detached myself from him. We both got dressed in yesterday's clothes and took something clean from the closet and our towels with us. I was perfectly aware that Heero had intended for us to shower separately, there were two bathrooms in the dorm building and they were both unoccupied, since most of our dorm mates were still in class. But of the little time we had left together we had already wasted so much, so taking separate showers was not what I wanted. With the coast clear I snuck into one of the bathrooms after him, before he could close the door and lock it.

Heero took a step back and looked a little concerned. "What are you doing? Use the other bathroom."

I purposefully locked the door behind me and started to strip again. "This will be my second shower today, yours too. That is incredibly wasteful. We should shower together, to save water. Really, I'm being completely selfless, I'm only thinking about the environment."

He quirked an eyebrow at me and watched me – butt naked – inch past him in the tight space and step into the shower stall.

I turned on the water, at a comfortably hot temperature and kept my back towards him. I could hear nothing over the cascade of water hitting the tile at my feet and as I started to count the 'Mississippi's' I realized he could have left, I had certainly given him the freedom to. A smile spread across my lips when the shower curtain was pulled closed and I could feel him stand closely behind me, trying his damn hardest not to let our bodies touch.

"Stop hogging the shower spray, mister environmentalist!" He eventually called with chattering teeth.

I turned around and pulled him closer towards me, effectively pulling him under the warm spray. "Better?"

"Hn."

I chuckled and leaned in for a kiss. It was only meant to be a short and sweet peck, but it was apparent Heero wanted more. With his hands cupping my face he prolonged the kiss and he leaned his nude body against mine. I moaned favorably against his mouth. "Mmm, I like this," I managed between kisses. I imagined what it would be like to live like that forever – a real life, not a student's life. We would have a nice house and I would get him to stay in bed late with me during the weekends. When we would wake up the first priority would be to make love and then we would shower and maybe make love again. I would make him unhealthy breakfast foods and he would complain and he would get me back the next day by serving me oatmeal.

I was rudely awakened when Heero abruptly ended the kiss and reached behind me for our personal bottles of shampoo on the little shelves. "We're wasting water," He informed with mischievous eyes.

I smiled at his playfulness but watched him work the shampoo into his wild hair with a bittersweet taste in my mouth. It would never be like that; the way I had imagined – the way I hoped it could be. I had him back now, but it was only temporary. Heero hadn't changed, he still believed he was straight and it didn't matter if that was true or not; as long as he believed that to be true it would stand between us, it would make the distance between Japan and the United States seem that much bigger and unbridgeable.

We were doomed to end as pen pals as long as Heero was too rigid to accept change – and I knew Heero well enough to know he was particularly rigid – but I wasn't going to waste the time we had left until them. Until then he was mine and he'd better accept that.

I grabbed his chin and tilted his head up. I smiled at the white suds in his hair and leaned in for another kiss.


	19. Chapter 19

**Thousand Words**

**Chapter Nineteen**

I had always loved the sound of my charcoal pencil scratching the surface of a clean piece of paper as I started a new drawing. It had been a lullaby to me since my childhood, in the absence of a mother's loving song. With the pencil I could create anything I wanted, any kind of fantasy. It served not only as an escape but as a boost to my confidence as well. I would always have my art. I could draw fantastical landscapes to replace the drab, cold interior of my father's office where I spent most my of youthful days, under the disinterested watch of a self-proclaimed over-qualified secretary. And I never needed any friends, I could draw amazing characters that no person in real life could ever live up to; elves, exotic assassins and scarred dragon slayers. I loved drawing, but now… not so much.

With a grumble rising from the frustrated depths of me I reached for my eraser and scrubbed away the handful of lines that crossed the white sheet in front of me. Even after nearly four years my hand still seemed inexperienced at drawing the straight lines that a would-be architect was expected to master. For a technical drawing I would use my ruler and other tools, but a sketch had to be done freehand so as not to disrupt the creative flow. Most of the times I would succeed after a couple of failed attempts, but right now every time I leaned back to appraise my work I noticed the lines were bowed and curved and not parallel. For a sketch the lines needn't be perfect, but they certainly had to be better than that, or the whole design would be lost.

Gripping the pencil tightly I connected the tip with the paper and dragged down to start anew. I cursed when I realized I had applied too much pressure in my frustration and I had created a thick, heavy line. Fervently I scrubbed at it with the eraser but it wouldn't fully disappear, irking me endlessly.

I was very much tempted to reach for my personal sketchbook and finish that drawing of Heero I had started earlier that day. One of my lectures had gotten cancelled – the visiting professor was supposed to fly in from L.A., but his flight had been delayed. I had taken a seat outside, the weather was improving noticeably every day, and without much thought I mapped out the contours of my favorite subject. I had to tuck the project away when Obie and a couple of his friends approached me. I itched to complete it, not because it was a fantasy I wanted to further indulge myself in, but because it was a memory that I wanted to preserve.

We had headed out to class in the early morning. Heero had a lecture in Auditorium B and I had a presentation in Auditorium A, which were obviously located right next to each other. Also located there was the janitor's closet that I knew to always be unlocked, based on my past experiences of dragging girlfriends in there. We were far too early, I had miscalculated the amount of time necessary for my detour to get coffee, there was no line and my caffeine haul took less than two minutes. With the doors to the auditoria still locked and the hallway otherwise abandoned, I had coaxed Heero into coming into the janitor's closet with me, to ease my nerves.

In the darkness we immediately grabbed each other and made out, clawing at clothes and tugging at handfuls of hair. After a while I turned him around and pushed him against the metal shelving, pressing my hard, clothed dick against his behind. Taking in a raspy breath Heero warned me that we shouldn't have sex and at that moment I agreed, perfectly content to dry-hump him. He certainly seemed to like it too, moaning gratuitously. That was one thing I liked about my sexual relationship with Heero, he made me feel like a horny teenager again, I would get hard at the slightest touch and if I wasn't careful I could come embarrassingly easily. There was sweat on my temples and on my back, making my shirt cling to me. I busied my mouth kissing the back of his neck and pulling the collar of his shirt wide to expose his shoulder to lick and nip at it. My shaky hands unzipped my fly and pushed his pants down just far enough.

"Duo," He had warned me with a voice dripping with need as my erection lined up with the cleft of his ass.

"Yeah yeah yeah…" I licked my palm and wetted my dick, truly with the intention of only making it easier to rub my arousal between his ass cheeks. But once I had gotten myself slicked up I realized it wouldn't be enough to just hump against him. I took hold of the base of my cock and held it steady and pushed into him with one swift, powerful thrust.

Heero screamed – honestly screamed – and adjusted his grip on the metal shelves, knocking over God knows what but it made an awful sound as it was pushed off the shelf and fell to our feet.

We both froze, scared that someone might have heard, but the hallway was still completely silent, no one seemed to be there.

"Duo," He gritted through his teeth. "Fuck."

"I'm sorry. Shit. You make me lose control," I said sheepishly.

"Stop talking," He hissed over his shoulder, "Just fuck me already."

I grinned and obliged him. Foregoing all gentleness I pounded into him, knowing we had to make it quick if we wanted to make it out of the closet before students would start to gather in the hallway. I fucked him so hard. The shelves rattled and knocked against the wall with every thrust. Heero moaned incessantly, arching his back and meeting my thrusts and he would beg me: "Harder! Fuck me harder!".

At some point he looked over his shoulder. I could barely see his face but I saw enough to have my breath taken away. The way his mouth was open and his lower lip was wet. His eyes were hooded, the orbs dark. He reached up and dug his fingers into my hair, pulling my face closer to his and he orchestrated a deep, passionate kiss. It was that exact moment that I wanted to remember forever. We both came shortly after, in the aftermath of the intense fuck we had both been reduced to whimpering, quivering messes. We cleaned up as best as we could and I tentatively poked my head out through the door. With the coast clear we got out and went to our classes. Of course I hadn't been able to focus all day.

Since my paper was ruined by a curved line that wouldn't go away I crumpled the sheet in my hands and tossed it aside, starting anew on a fresh sheet. I hadn't even put the tip of my pencil on the surface when the door opened behind me and Heero quietly slipped into our bedroom, dropping his bag on his bed.

"'Sup?" I greeted.

There was no response.

I frowned. I hadn't seen him since our little escapade in the janitor's closet and when he didn't greet me I was worried he was upset about the fact that I fucked him even though we had previously agreed that I wouldn't. I was about to turn around in my seat and apologize profusely – and genuinely – when Heero effectively eased away my concern.

He came to stand behind me and placed his hands on my shoulders. When he leaned forward until his mouth was near my ear, he let his hands stroke down my torso and back up. I could feel the warmth of his hands through my thin shirt and the heat of his breath in my ear. I moaned contently at the unexpected attention. It was much appreciated. I sported a smug smirk when I heard him whisper in my ear:

"I've been sore all fucking day."

"Really?" I couldn't contain my glee. The thought that Heero walked around all day with such a 'reminder' of me pleased me. And I frankly loved that he didn't seem bothered by it.

"I still can't sit right." Absentmindedly his hands massaged my pectorals, shoulders and arms.

I felt a tingle running down my spine, realizing he, too, seemed turned on by the way I had 'marked' him as my own that day. Playing along, I reminded him: "Who was the one who kept telling me to fuck him harder?"

"I really hate you sometimes."

I let out a breathy chuckle. "Sure you do." I looked down at myself with a crooked grin and a slight blush. His ministrations were relatively innocent but fuelled by the psychological excitement my dick twitched and slowly hardened, tenting my loose-fitting sweatpants. I didn't have to wait long to see how he would react. A wet kiss was placed on my jaw but it only distracted me momentarily. I caught sight of his hand trailing down my body and watched intently as it slipped inside the front of my pants. I wasn't wearing any underwear. If that caught him off guard, or put him off in any way, he didn't let it show and started pulling on my cock. His technique was straightforward and rather rough – which I supposed was revenge for the way I had fucked him that morning, but I didn't mind in the least, instead I enjoyed the roughness and the urgency. I leaned my head back and looked up at him. He understood the hint and captured my lips in a heated kiss. The rhythm of his hand never wavered.

I could feel myself starting to get close. I ended the kiss and looked down at where his hand disappeared into my pants and I could see it moving up in down in long strokes of his tight fist. Glancing at him sideways I saw Heero was watching intently as well, a look of concentration and determination on his face, but his clouded eyes betrayed his intense lust.

"I'm going to come soon if you keep going."

"That's the point."

"I want to fuck you."

He chuckled. "No fucking way. I wasn't just being cute when I told you I was sore."

I scrunched up my face, worried I might have really been too rough with him earlier that day. "I'm sorry."

He looked at me and placed a brief, firm kiss on my mouth to reassure me.

Heero redirected his attention to where his hand was moving up and down in my lap, but I kept staring at his face, studying his fine features, realizing with a slight ache in my chest that my drawings failed to capture all of his beauty; the intricacy and delicacy of the artistry and refinement of his face. But getting drunk on the glory of the reality I let my orgasm flood me, letting out a low, drawn out moan.

After a few more pumps he retracted his hand and stepped back.

I was sated and tired following my release, but I immediately sat upright and swiveled my chair around so I was facing him. Heero quirked an eyebrow at me when I reached for his hips and pulled him one step closer to me. Understanding what I was offering he helped my uncoordinated fingers undo his jeans and push them down along with his briefs. His swollen member was revealed right in front of me and I sucked it into my mouth unceremoniously. It wasn't long before he spilled his semen on my tongue, his hands on my head holding me still, making me take all of it as he rode the waves of his orgasm.

I released him from my mouth and kept him steady with a strong grip of my hands on his hips. He was shaking so much I worried he would pass out and drop down to the floor.

We both took our time to regain our composure and then it was back to business as usual.

"Did you make plans for dinner, yet?" He asked, pulling up and fastening his jeans.

"No… maybe take-out…"

"I'm making pasta. I have plenty, you want some?"

"Not that vegan, tofu, whole-wheat, low-fat, zero carbs shit, right?"

"Now you're just making things up. It's plain old, regular pasta."

I beamed a smile. "Then I'd love some."

"There's just no meat in the sauce," He confessed.

"What? That's… fine."

My friend headed to the door. "You mind helping out?"

"Not at all." I jumped up from my seat, pausing to readjust myself in my pants and then followed him downstairs.

We cooked and had dinner together. Few words were exchanged between us. Occasionally one of the other guys would come into the kitchen to fetch a soda from the fridge or to reheat yesterday's pizza.

Sitting next to him at the small table in the kitchen I waited for one of the juniors – who I didn't really know – to leave and then snaked my arm out and casually placed my hand on Heero's thigh. He instantly reached for my hand and I expected to be swatted away, but instead he laid his hand on top of my own and left it there. He never once looked at me. Thankfully, or he would have seen my goofy, pleased expression, which would have alarmed him.

At the sound of approaching footsteps Heero's hands disappeared and I pulled my own back into my lap.

"Hey, Norwood. What's up?" I greeted. Norwood was a bit of the runt of the litter in our dorm house. He probably wasn't happy that he got shacked up with the jocks and the likes of Nash. I always tried to be nice to him, considering the hard time the others were giving him, but he was a difficult guy to talk to; he was likable enough but a bit of an ass-kisser in his everlasting attempt to gain the respect of the other guys. But I would never forget what Heero had told me, that if it wasn't for his friendship with me, he would be just like Norwood; an outcast and the subject of constant bullying. That in itself made me more sympathetic to the odd guy.

"Hey, Duo. Heero. Nothing's up. I'm fine." He opened up the fridge and clicked his tongue as he searched for something that could resemble dinner.

"Would you like some pasta?" I offered, looking at Heero to verify if that would be alright. Heero shrugged, his way of giving his consent.

He looked at the pan on the stove. There was more than enough left to fill up a plate. "Are you sure?"

"Yeah, of course. Help yourself."

"Thanks. Thanks, Duo. Heero." He got a plate from a cabinet but took only a small amount, too self-conscious to take all that was left. He heated it up in the microwave, shifting uncomfortably as he waited.

When the microwave beeped I said: "You can join us if you like." I nodded at the empty seat across from us.

Heero glanced at me sideways. He wasn't really a fan of socializing, but I wanted to be nice and in the end Heero made no objections when Norwood sat down across from us.

"Thanks," He said again and then took a polite, small bite.

I smiled and shook my head and focused on my own meal.

Norwood started talking to fill the silence, which I was actually grateful for. I replied infrequently with the Heero-Yuy-trademarked 'Hn', or a single syllable word to feign interest in the conversation. It was too much to ask me to get into a discussion about some fantasy-game I had only ever heard of in passing. Heero didn't look up from his plate, eating mechanically, completely detached from the social interaction. While I continued to look at Norwood to keep up pretenses I moved my hand under the table and splayed it on Heero's thigh again. My lover tensed and stilled, even though Norwood obviously couldn't see anything, unless he had X-ray vision like one of his favorite game-characters. He didn't cover my hand with his own but he didn't push me away either.

I smiled at the small victory which caused Norwood to get all excited as he mistakenly interpreted my smile as interest in his story, so he elaborated with more, meaningless details. I didn't mind. I wasn't really listening. I enjoyed the heat radiating from Heero's leg and the way his muscles eventually relaxed underneath my touch.

Bitterly I wished I could place my hand lovingly on his leg whenever I pleased, regardless of what company we were in, for all years to come. But I had to revel the closeness for as long as it could last. I would watch him, touch him, suck him and fuck him as often as he allowed in the vain hope that it would bore me before the academic year was through; the way you get sick of hearing a song you love when you've heard it too often. I didn't expect it to actually work, but I would at least enjoy giving it a try.

Without any warning Nash burst into the kitchen, shuffling his feet to keep himself steady as he carried a heavy crate of bottled beers to the counter. Reflexively I took my hand off Heero, hoping my movements weren't so sharp that they could be noticed. Nash wasn't an inherently bad guy – I wanted to believe that – but I didn't trust him after the stunt he had pulled. We had to be especially careful around him, the prankster was like a machine in his never-ending search for his next joke, like a shark patrolling the waters and we had already inadvertently spilt blood into the open sea.

"Hey guys, enjoying your little tea party?" He teased. He leaned the small of his back against the counter and grinned at us. "You boys make a nice little threesome."

Norwood went beet red. Heero didn't show his discomfort beyond tensing up. I stared back at him, pretending that the comment didn't set my teeth on edge. "Planning another party?"

"You're old team is playing tonight," Nash informed, referring to the basketball team that I had quit. "Never much reason for celebration but people sure as Hell always feel like getting wasted after those games." He laughed and ripped open the door of the refrigerator, moving around other people's products to make room for the beer. "Couldn't score a keg in time though, so spread the word: it's bring-your-own-beer night."

"I won't be attending. I'm working," I looked down at my watch. "Shit, in like, twenty minutes." I sighed and berated myself for not finishing that sketch that was due the next day.

Nash popped open one of the lukewarm beers and took a swig. His eyes were mischievous. "What about you, Norwood?"

Norwood tried to be casual and cool, but his reply was stammered. "Yeah, to-totally count me in. I love to party." He looked around uncomfortably.

Nash laughed. "Awesome. And what about misses Maxwell?"

Heero dropped his fork in his nearly empty plate and glared up at the jester.

I got up from my seat. "That's quite enough, don't you think, Nash?" My tone was cold and I hoped to intimidate him.

"Dude, relax, why do you guys always have to take everything so seriously?" He waved his hand dismissively and then marched out of the kitchen.

Norwood helped us clean up the dishes and thanked us again for dinner. Once he vacated the room and went upstairs Heero turned to me with his hands on his hips.

"Are you sure he doesn't know?" He pressed.

"Nash doesn't know shit, okay?" I bit on the inside of my cheek. Not yet anyway. "Relax. He's always been like this. Just because the 'misses Maxwell' stuff has a double meaning for us now doesn't mean anything has changed. He has called you that since Junior year."

He sighed. "You're right. It just… Fuck. It irks me."

I chuckled at him. "If you don't let it get to you, he won't have a clue." I looked at my watch again and announced I had to leave. "See you later. Try not to kill anyone during this party, okay?"

"I make no promises," He grumbled.

After a quick glance to make sure the coast was clear I leaned forward and planted short, firm kiss on his mouth. His shocked expression made me smile. Normally we only kiss or touch with sex being the ultimate goal. Never 'just because'. "Bye." I walked away and I heard Heero's belated, meek goodbye by the time I reached the front door of the dorm building.

Walking into the campus bar I saw Obie had already arrived to relieve the employees of the afternoon shift and while they were hanging out, tiredly draped over the bar, he rearranged the things that they had misplaced, without complaint. He waved at me with the dishtowel when he spotted me at the door. I greeted the other bartenders but I didn't know them very well. The Juniors were always scheduled for the afternoon shifts. I never bothered to befriend any of them. They left shortly after I arrived, dragging their feet, as if they had it so tough. As a Senior approaching graduation I longed for my course-load from the first two years, the volume of which paled in comparison to what I was expected to do now.

"Glad to be working the shift with you, mate." He fist-bumped me.

"Yeah."

"If you want to go home because of that party at your place, you can leave early, I don't mind. It's going to be a quiet night anyway."

I shrugged and needlessly realigned a row of beer glasses. "Nah… Nash's parties… aren't really my 'scene', if you'll excuse the expression."

He chuckled heartedly. "I know, but I figured you might want to save Heero from suffering through that terrible fate by himself."

I smiled in return but cocked an eyebrow, not entirely sure what to think of his comment. Maybe I was getting as suspicious as Heero. "He's a big boy. He can manage."

"Sure." He dropped the subject and asked if I was free for a friendly game of basketball tomorrow.

I furrowed my brows. "I have that workshop. I don't know when I'll get off."

"Well, if you finish early, you know where to find us. It's probably more fair to play in uneven teams, we always beat them, after all."

I grinned at the gross exaggeration. "How's married life?"

"It's… interesting."

After failing to suppress a snort, I inquired: "Yeah, is that good or bad?"

"A little bit of both."

From his ambiguous reply I figured he didn't want to get into the specifics, so I quietly went to work, confident he knew he could talk to me if he wanted or needed to.

"It's just…" He started again, frowning at himself.

I smiled and turned around to give him my undivided attention.

"She wants to do a semester abroad," Obie continued, "And on one hand I want her to, because she really wants it. But on the other hand… we're married. Shouldn't we… I dunno… stick together?"

I didn't know what to tell him. I was hardly an expert on the do's and don'ts of marriage, my parents hadn't exactly been a good example; they hardly saw each other. I did, however, know a thing or two about your loved-one leaving the country, so I easily sympathized. "It's not like she'll be gone forever, she'll come back once the semester is over."

"Shit, right- I'm sorry." He looked at me apologetically – pitifully, in fact.

"What?"

"Well, fuck, I'm standing here complaining about Jenny moving away for a couple of months when Heero's leaving for good."

I stammered: "So? Heero and I aren't married."

"You know what I mean. He's your best friend and you're never going to see him again."

Following more stammering and stuttering on my part, looking for a rebuttal, I managed: "It's not like we're never going to see each other again."

"Yeah, yeah right." He nodded his head but he was clearly unconvinced.

"He could come back to the States for a visit… or- or I could go see him in Japan. And we'll Skype!" I didn't know why I was arguing, I actually agreed with Obie's observations. I supposed it was just frightening to hear it be said out loud, by an objective observer.

"Sure." Awkwardly he searched for something to do, to distract from the conversation.

I didn't say anything else. I wouldn't know what to say to convince him, let alone to convince myself. I tried to have some fun with Obie during our shift but he was stiff and withdrawn; maybe worrying about his relationship with Jenny, or worrying about the awkward topic he had brought up regarding me and Heero. Although I couldn't figure out how he could have possibly found out, the creeping thought remained that he might know Heero was more to me than just a friend; he was treading so lightly and being so sensitive. The possibility that he might know tempted me to come right out and say it, or at least admit to my recent discovery that girls weren't really my thing after all. Obie was a good friend, I should be able to tell him, but I felt like I would be betraying Heero's trust if I confided in Obie. I didn't enjoy having to be secretive, knowing it would create a distance between me and the tall basketball player that would likely end our friendship, but my focus was on my relationship with Heero.

In the end I did leave the bar a little early. Normally I wouldn't have minded to stick around, but with the atmosphere being as unpleasant as it was, I felt it would be best to cut the night short and we could just act normal to each other again the next day.

I could hear the fast-paced, booming music as I approached the dorm building. By the front door the smokers had gathered in a circle, laughing and passing around a lighter. I didn't know any of them so none of them even looked at me when I walked past them. Inside the bass was absolutely deafening. I was startled when an arm was suddenly flung over my shoulder and I ended up supporting most of Nash' weight as he drunkenly hung off me.

"Your team lost!" He informed me.

"It's not my team anymore!" I shouted in return to be heard over the track currently playing.

"That's right, you 'don't play for that team anymore'!" With his one free hand he made 'air-quotations'.

Dismissing the fact that I loathed it when people used their fingers to make that signal on either side of their head, as if punctuation had any place in verbal speech, I couldn't help but wonder if Nash was still taking shots in the dark, not really knowing that he was hitting the mark with his gay-jokes, or if he knew more than I gave him credit for.

I scrunched up my face, not liking what keeping this secret did to me. It was making me so suspicious, everything was analyzed; overanalyzed; doubly analyzed. Every conversation was a quest for hidden meanings and double innuendo's. It was exhausting.

"You're free to get a beer from the fridge if you want."

"I thought it was 'bring-your-own-beer' night."

He slapped his other hand against my chest. "Not you! We are brothers! My brother from another mother!"

I rolled my eyes at him, turning my head away at the heavy, bitter stench of beer every time he opened his mouth. "Of course we are." I peeled him off me and handed his unsteady frame over to a random passer-by who clearly had no clue as to what to do with the hopeless drunk.

Worrying for my lover's sanity with the music playing so obnoxiously loud I wasted no further time and headed up to our room.

Heero was hunched over the desk, the weight of his head supported on one hand, the fingers dug into his hair. At the sound of the door opening behind him he called: "Fuck off!"

"Woah, quite the welcome." I closed the door behind me.

He turned around in his chair. "Sorry, I thought you were Nash. He keeps bothering me."

I scoffed. Not to be rude, but I knew Nash wasn't Heero's biggest fan, no love was lost between the two of them. "What, did he want you to come downstairs and join the party?"

"No, he wanted me to go on a beer-run."

Letting out a single laugh I dropped down in the empty seat next to his and glanced at the papers spread out messily on the surface of the desk. "Watcha doin'?"

"Nothing," He sighed, exasperated. "Literally nothing. I can't do anything with that Goddamn music."

I shrugged and bobbed my head to the beat. "It's not that bad."

"It's atrocious," He deadpanned.

"That's not really fair. It's just not the kind of music that you put on when you're studying. It's the kind of music you dance to. In that context, I actually like it."

"You can dance to this as well as you can dance to a dripping water tap, it's nothing but a repetitive tone. Over and over and over."

"Come on!" I jumped to my feet. "Don't tell me you can't get freaky to this beat!" I laughed at his scrunched up face. I started to dance in the most ridiculous was possible, jumping up and down, wiggling my hips, doing the classic eighties moves of 'the lawnmower' and 'the sprinkler'. Pretty quickly I succeeded in getting him to laugh. I leaned forward and took hold of his hands, aiming to pull him out of his seat. He resisted, digging his heels into the carpet and leaning his weight back.

"No! No! Duo, I'm serious." The fact that he was laughing uncontrollably suggested otherwise.

"Come on, baby, dance with me!"

He resisted a little while longer but then, with a sigh that kind of sounded like 'fine', he rose from the chair and started jumping up and down with me to the rhythm of the upbeat hip hop track that had just started playing downstairs. He mimicked my nerdy dance moves even more stiffly, making every routine look like 'the robot'. But as the embarrassment faded he started to enjoy himself.

With our hands up in the air we were jumping, spinning and gyrating our hips. It reminded me of our night at the club; good memories. I reached out for him and pulled his swaying body closer to mine, effectively making our dance more sensual. He continued to laugh innocently, rolling his head back as I started to 'vogue', making silly faces.

The cd player changed tracks, causing Heero to groan and he explained: "I've heard this song five times already this evening."

I put my hands on his hips and inched him closer still.

Teasingly he brushed his lips against mine, but he pulled back with a smirk whenever I leaned in for a proper kiss. "I really hate this song."

When there was suddenly the sound of a door opening we jumped apart. Heero nearly jumped clear across the room and I hit my back against the mirror on the closet door. We both turned our heads but there was nothing to see. Relief visibly washed over him once we heard that same door close and we realized it was the door of the neighboring room. We heard the high-pitched giggle of a girl and then the creak of a bed.

"Jesus." I ran my finger through my hair. My heart was beating in my throat, I knew very well that if we would ever be walked in on, my relationship with Heero would be ruined.

We looked at each other and laughed sheepishly.

Much to Heero's dismay the volume of the music was turned up even louder.

"Want to get out of here?"

"Yes."

We put on our coats. Heero took one of his textbook and I grabbed my sketchpad just in case inspiration would hit me. We made our way through the crowd pretty much unnoticed.

Outside the temperature still dropped quite low at night, but I enjoyed the crisp, fresh air and our coats were plenty warm enough. As we started to walk around aimlessly Heero suggested to go to the university library, which was open 24/7.

"Nah." I nodded at the bench by the outdoor basketball court. "Let's stay out here and go sit there." I didn't feel like going to the library. The main area was open all through the night but the doors to the private study rooms were locked, to keep the building manageable for the single night watch. I didn't want to sit next to some Freshman cramming for exams, having to be quiet. The library was always silent but at night you could get glared at for turning a page… or breathing.

We sat down on the bench and I leaned back and looked up at the black sky. It was completely clouded, there were no stars, nor a moon to be seen. In the distance I could faintly hear the music. I knew it wouldn't last long, if the party wouldn't quiet down shortly after midnight security would come to shut it all down, since it was a weekday. We had about forty minutes to kill.

"So Obie is handling the bar by himself?"

"When I left there was no one else there. No point wasting both our time."

He nodded and opened the textbook in his lap.

I had my sketchpad with me but I was perfectly content just watching him. I couldn't indulge myself for very long though, after only a few minutes he closed the book with a sigh. "What?"

"I'm too tired."

"You've been tired a lot lately."

"Yeah… All that fucking really takes it out of me." He flashed me a grin.

I smiled. I thoroughly enjoyed his more lighthearted and crass approach. Casually I stretched out my arms, popping my shoulders and then draped my left arm along the backrest of the bench, my hand ending up right by his neck – what a coincidence. I lightly caressed the skin above the collar of his coat and toyed with the fine hairs at the base of his chocolate brown mop. When he shifted in his seat I figured he disliked the public display of affection – although the public nature of it could be argued since there was no one around to see us. But I was pleasantly surprised when he turned sideways and laid down on the bench, his knees bent so his feet were on the seat, his head rested in my lap. He held the book to his chest and closed his eyes.

For a while I didn't dare to touch him, regardless how much my fingers were aching to do so. But once I was confident he was fully comfortable I started stroking the fingers of one hand through his hair and simultaneously I brought down the other hand to cover his, holding the book. My breath hitched when his eyes opened slowly and he gazed up at me. My heart was beating wildly. It was painful how much I loved him. I shamelessly studied his face in this new light and angle. I had yet to find a perspective in which he didn't look absolutely perfect. I briefly wondered what he was thinking as he stared straight back at me, but then he closed his eyes again.

I suspected he had fallen asleep after a few minutes had passed, but then, out of the blue, he apologized quietly.

"You're sorry? For what?"

"You probably want to draw." A tired hand touched the sketchbook that was propped up on the bench between his arm and the backrest.

"No. This is good."

He made a sound of disagreement. "We shouldn't be doing this."

"Why not?"

"We have to keep our friendship and the sex separate. This kind of stuff… bridges the gap." Despite his argument, he moved no muscle.

"What, exactly, is 'this kind of stuff'?"

An adorable little frown appeared on his forehead. "I don't know, but I think it goes beyond friendship and yet it's not sex, so it doesn't meet the parameters of our arrangement. Like that kiss, earlier. It's in between." He opened his eyes and avoided my gaze. With a grunt he sat upright.

I was still slumped on the bench and Heero sat sideways, with his back turned towards me, his legs crossed. I stared at the back of his head for a minute, watching the wind play with his hair. Then I straightened up and wrapped my arms around him, holding him to me. I kissed the side of his neck and bravely informed him: "I like the in-between."

He twisted his neck to look back at me. His expression yielded nothing. I tentatively kissed his lips, closing my eyes to blinding sparks that matched the charge electrifying my body including every nerve-end. He kissed me back, lightly at first, but then he coyly challenged me to do more, so with my hand on the back of his neck I tilted his head as I pleased and kissed him passionately. I drank the moans that poured from his lips. I didn't know how long the kiss lasted, but it would never be long enough. When it ended our breathing was ragged and my coat felt much too warm on my body. Heero slowly turned his face away to look in the distance and I rested my chin on his shoulder.

It's quiet," He pointed out.

I listened and realized he was right. The music had stopped and I hadn't even noticed.

"We can go back now."

"Yeah."

Two heartbeats later he got up and collected his textbook and I followed him back to the dorm building. We ran into people along the way, heading home after the music had been turned off. The living room and kitchen were an absolute mess, but that would be Nash's problem. Although he would probably get a couple of Freshmen to do the work for him, under his supervision – sitting in the lazy chair in the corner with sunglasses on, nursing a Bloody Mary to manage his hangover.

We went to bed but I couldn't sleep. My eyes moved restlessly behind my eyelids. I couldn't decide if Heero was allowing the extra intimacy because he had discovered he genuinely enjoyed it and wanted to further explore that aspect or if he was letting me have my way with him to make up for the fact that he hurt my feelings by sleeping with that girl.

It wasn't easy being a closeted gay guy. There were a lot of things, negative things, that preoccupied my thoughts. I could see it really taking a toll on me in the long run. At least when Heero would be gone, back to Japan, I could be open about myself again. Although I wasn't sure how that would actually translate to me feeling any better, being that far away from Heero. It was a cold comfort.

The next morning I strategically took a seat in the very back of the auditorium so I would go unnoticed when I hunched over my fold-away table, working on that bothersome sketch for class. At times a wave of nerves would hit me realizing how close I was to graduation. I felt like I wasn't ready yet, there was nothing I had done to be immensely proud of. I had created nothing amazing. That frustration and fear didn't aid the creative process in the least but at the end of the two hour lecture I hastily finished an acceptable sketch and added it to the folder that I was to hand in at the start of my next class.

After that I had lunch. My heart would still beat unevenly when I walked down the hall to the private study room. With every step the memory of that unpalatable discovery became more vivid. I wasn't able to take a proper breath until I had opened the door and found him innocently seated there by himself, pouring over his work, as usual.

"Are you coming to my swim meet tomorrow?" He asked absentmindedly, chewing on his choice sandwich.

"What time does it start? I'm working tonight, bar's open 'til two, so I won't be back before three."

"I'm sorry. I didn't mean- You shouldn't feel forced to come. I was only wondering…"

I looked up from the game of Tetris on my cellphone at his monotonous tone. "No, I really want to come to the match, I'm just saying that if it's really early you might have to drag me out of bed."

"It starts at ten."

"Oh. Well, that's not too bad. I'll be semi-conscious by then." I smirked at him.

"You shouldn't come if you don't want to. You've been working a lot lately, you should enjoy your time off."

I scooted my chair closer to him and leaned in close. I naughtily whispered in his ear: "Trust me, I will be enjoying my time off to the max watching you walk around in your skintight jammers."

He let out a single, strangled cough but then pretended he was completely unaffected by my remark.

"So stop worrying about it."

"I'm sorry."

"You've been saying that a lot lately."

His fingers tightened around his neon yellow marker and his jaw clenched shut.

"Heero," I started affectionately. I knew it was about what had happened in that very room. "I've forgiven you."

"I am still very sorry," He muttered poignantly.

"I know. That is exactly why I can honestly say that I have forgiven you."

His hand relaxed. He looked relieved, yet still concerned.

I didn't say anything else, instead I placed my phone on top of his textbook, disrupting his reading. "This level is kicking my ass, can you please-"

He scoffed and grabbed my phone, starting the game. Within minutes – on his second try – he completed the level and handed the device back to me with a smug little expression on his face.

I smiled, happy to have been able to relieve the tension. "Thanks." I sat back and propped my feet up on the table, continuing my game, of course I failed to pass the next level, even at the umpteenth try, but I didn't let it show and eventually gave up, swallowing my curses.

As predicted, things had returned to normal between me and Obie by the time I saw him for the Friday night shift at the bar. Halfway through the night he elbowed me in my side when I was superficially flirting with a shy girl at the end of the bar and he cautiously nodded in the direction of the door, alerting me to the arrival of Hilde and Relena.

The two girls spotted me and exchanged a few words before approaching the bar, taking a seat in my section.

Being polite and professional I asked them what they would like to drink and then served Relena her apple martini and Hilde a tequila sunrise.

"It's been a while since we've been at the on-campus bar," Hilde said to no one in particular.

Relena didn't appreciate her indirect attempt to prompt a conversation and called to me before I could discretely back away: "Duo, how have you been?"

"Absolutely perfect."

"People have really been talking about you. Because of last night."

I swallowed a sudden lump in my throat. "Yeah? Why? What did I do last night?" With sweat beading on my forehead I remembered the less than secretive kiss on the bench by the court. I really didn't think anybody had been there to witness it and clearly neither did Heero, or he wouldn't have allowed it.

She quirked her eyebrow. "Duh, because of the game?" At my puzzled expression she elaborated: "The basketball game? The team sucked."

"Oh. Oh!" I tried not to let my relief show and instead acted casual.

"They've never sucked as bad as they do now without you in the team."

"Obie left the team as well," I deflected.

"You were the captain."

"It doesn't really matter if you lose by two point or ten points. We were a losing team when I was the captain and apparently nothing changed. A loss is a loss." I really wasn't invested in the team anymore. In hindsight I regretted playing as long as I had.

"But I think being on the team was good for you," Hilde finally inserted herself into the conversation.

I scoffed. "How did you figure that?"

"At least you had a hobby and you hung out a lot with friends from the team. Nowadays you're always holed up in your room with Heero."

"Yes, it's not healthy," Relena offered her two cents.

"Jealous much?" I shot at her, enjoying her indignant expression.

"Don't you think you should spend more time with people who aren't going to move away in two months?" Hilde challenged.

"Like you?"

"We could be friends," She argued childishly. "Just friends."

"Or we could all hang out together," Relena suggested, batting her eyelashes, "The four of us."

"Fuck no." I laughed at her. "I know what this is. Your last-ditch attempt to get close with Heero. Well, face it: Time's up. He doesn't like you." I faced Hilde. "Did she put you up to this?"

"He doesn't even know me," The blonde argued.

"He knows more than enough." I shook my head. "Enjoy your drinks, ladies, they're on the house." Then I walked away.

Once they left Obie and I had a laugh at Relena's expense and I retold him the story of the night she slipped a date-rape drug in Heero's drink and he nearly died of an overdose – exaggerating as I went to make it a proper horror story.

The last patron we showed the door at a quarter past two and then we began the repetitive task of cleaning up the space before leaving over an hour later. It was a managerial flaw that the biggest, most time-consuming, weekly clean-up tasks were scheduled on one of two nights a week when the bar was open until two, as opposed to the other days when we closed at the stroke of midnight.

"Are you working tomorrow?" Obie asked, standing by me as he watched me lock the door behind us.

"Nah, man, I'm not coming back before Wednesday."

"Lucky." He slapped me on the shoulder as a way of saying goodbye and then walked in the opposite direction with his hands stuffed in his pockets.

I snuck back into the quiet dorm building, tip toeing up the stairs and cringing at how loud my key sounded in the lock when I turned it. Leaning back against the closed door I held my breath and listened. Faintly I could hear Heero's even breathing. I was grateful my entry hadn't awoken him. I quickly slipped out of my jeans and button-up shirt and took care not to shake the bunk bed too much climbing into it.

"Welcome home, honey," Heero murmured into his pillow, tired but not too tired to be sarcastic.

I smiled, although I did feel guilty about waking him up. "Good to be back. Go to sleep, baby."

It appeared he did just that; he didn't respond.

The next day we walked to the swimming pool together. I wasn't nervous, it was only a friendly match in preparation for a competition next week. We didn't say anything and I supposed there was no need for that. I didn't even wish him good luck when we parted ways, I didn't want to disturb the comfortable silence between us. I went inside through the visitor's entry and Heero went into the locker rooms. Standing at the bottom of the bleachers at the indoor pool I heard someone call my name over the indiscriminate murmur of the gathered crowd. Squinting my eyes I scanned the faces until suddenly a platinum blonde head of hair stood out to me and I waved at Quatre seated at the top. I headed up to him and asked a trio of girls to scoot so I could sit next to him.

"Hey, how are you?"

"Great. How are you doing?" His eyes were knowing.

The realization hit me that Quatre and Trowa were the only people who –for sure – knew about my sexuality and the feeling was alien. "Good?"

"And Heero?"

"Great." I didn't know what else to say. I was so used to not talking about it, I was at a loss for words.

Both swim teams emerged from the locker rooms and my gaze was fixed on Heero, walking closely to Trowa as always. They took their seat on benches lining the pool, facing the bleachers. I could tell Heero was searching for me in the crowd. I waited for his eyes to find me and smiled when they did. His stare lingered, but then Trowa bumped his shoulder against his, wanting his attention. I watched them talk while the first swimmers were called up to the diving platform and started their race.

Heero swam two distances – the fifty meter freestyle and the 100 meter freestyle. On his first distance he beat his own personal record, earning him the praises from his coach and his teammates. I was standing on top of my seat, clapping and cheering. His second race was intense. He had only had a short break to recuperate and then had to swim against Trowa among others. Trowa had the advantage of it being his first race of the day and the length of his limbs would benefit him in the longer distance. Quatre and I were both on our feet, cheering them on. They were neck and neck, all the other swimmers were behind by a significant distance. Their hands touched the edge of the pool; their finish seemed simultaneous. I felt an irrational kind of resentment when the times were posted on the board and the swimmer in the fourth lane, Trowa, had come in first by the slightest margins and Quatre was screaming at the top of his lungs. I focused on Heero who was still in the water, catching his breath. Trowa climbed out of the pool but rather than celebrating his victory with the younger teammates he bent forward at Heero's lane and offered him a hand. He hoisted the shorter swimmer out of the pool and leaned in to tell him something. Obviously I didn't know what had been said, but Heero's posture was less defeated and they took their seats again. There were a few more races, among which the butterfly, in which Trowa also competed and won.

When it was all over Quatre and I waited outside.

It seemed the blonde figured it was as good of a time as any to start up another awkward conversation. "So, about Trowa's little talk with you at the bar…"

"Hn. Yeah?" I remembered Trowa coming in and advising me against pursuing Heero in a romantic or sexual way because he didn't believe the Japanese man to be gay. His timing had been absolutely impeccable…

"I told him to go talk to you but I didn't think he was going to say stuff like that."

I shrugged.

He leaned in closely, so his remark wouldn't be overheard. "For your information, I think Trowa is wrong about Heero."

I stared at him. Initially my heart leapt at the implications but my enthusiasm was quickly quelled. One of them believed Heero was straight and apparently the other believed he was gay. What was I supposed to do with that information? It boiled down to fifty/fifty. The two of them were as divided on the subject as I was by myself, their guess was as good as mine.

To save me from the confusing conversation Heero and Trowa appeared. Quatre suggested that we should all go have a late lunch together, but I bowed out under the pretense of homework which led Heero to turn down the offer as well. We said friendly goodbyes and then we headed for our dorm building.

"What did Trowa say after your race?" I asked curiously.

"That I would've beaten him if I hadn't done the fifty meters right before. He's right about that," He smirked.

I chuckled and teased: "You're a sore loser."

"I'm not!"

I continued: "Give the guy this one victory! You're faster than everyone, you're smarter than everyone, you're hotter than everyone. Give him this one win."

Heero snorted. "Come on. Usually I'm faster than him, yes, and arguably smarter too, but Trowa is way hotter than me."

I let out a hearty laugh. "What? Are you serious?"

"Yes, of course. He is tall, fit, handsome, he has great hair," He analyzed matter-of-factly.

"Jesus, do you fancy him or something?" I was only joking but there was a twinge of jealousy.

"No! Of course I don't. I'm just saying that, objectively, he is 'hot'. Certainly hotter than me."

"I disagree." Since there was no point in further trying to convince my friend that he was the hottest guy I had ever seen, I lightheartedly demanded to know: "What about me, am I hot?"

"Obviously. You tick the same boxes as Trowa."

"Tall, fit, handsome and great hair?" I verified mischievously.

"Yeah."

"And this is all just objective, you don't fancy me either?"

Heero paused and then answered: "Yes, it's purely objective. Scientific even."

I smiled because he had to pause before he replied. I wondered about that pause. The pause gave me hope. I continued to play along. "Okay, so, 'objectively', who is hotter? Trowa, or little ol' Duo?"

He turned to face me with a smirk. "Definitely Trowa."

I laughed and pushed him away. "You dick!" I grabbed him by his neck and hissed at him: "We're going to go upstairs and I am going to provide you with 'scientific evidence' of the superior hotness of Duo – fucking – Maxwell."

"Alright," He replied coyly, "Convince me."

With a growl I shoved him through the open front door of the dorm house and rushed him up the stairs.

It was quiet and I wouldn't be surprised if we were the only ones home. During the weekends many students went back to their parents, especially on Saturday afternoons everyone made themselves scarce. Still, just to be sure, I locked the door behind us and once I did Heero was all over me. I liked his aggressiveness and responded in kind, taking strong hold of his hips and fighting his tongue for dominance. The small room filled with the sound of us breathing harshly through our nose, intermitted by slight gasps and barely heard moans. Heero smelled of chlorine – he always showered at home, not in the locker rooms – but the chemical smell didn't put me off, like maybe it should. I was hungry for him and nothing could deter me from getting my fill.

After lengthily making out against the door, letting him press me back against it, I decided it was time to take control over the situation and give it some forward momentum. I lifted him up by his ass and walked us over to the space between the bed and the desk, where we had some room to work with. There, I knelt on the floor and laid him down on the carpet. He looked up at me with lustful eyes.

Momentarily taking my hands off him I sat on my haunches and rid myself of my shirt, exposing my upper body. I looked down at him, gestured at my abs and said: "Exhibit A."

Heero let out a rumbling laugh.

With a playful grin I raised my arms and tensed up my biceps to show them off. "Exhibit B." Then I reached down and grasped the sizeable bulge in the front of my jeans. "Exhibit C…" I winked at him.

"Mm." Heero sat upright and replaced my hand with his own. "I think I have to inspect exhibit C more closely before I can draw any conclusions."

I was about to chuckle but the sound died in my throat, strangled in the back by a groan that made its way up from the depths of me. Heero's fingers deftly undid my jeans and pushed them down and there was nothing shy or uncertain about his course of action as he immediately took me into his mouth.

"Ho-ly Jesus," I uttered. I let him suck me for as long as I thought I could stand it without blowing my loud like a sixteen-year-old boy losing his virginity. When I felt myself getting too close I asked him to stop, I didn't want this to be over quite so soon.

Heero promptly took his vest and his shirt off and lay back down on the floor. He pushed his hips up and I realized he wanted me to take his pants off and perhaps return the favor so I rid him of his shoes and socks, undid his fly and grabbed hold of the pant legs by his ankle and ripped the fabric down the length of his legs. The article of clothing was tossed clear across the room, leaving Heero naked. I greedily drank in the sight of him. With his arms above his head he had elongated what was already an elegant and perfect body. His hair fanned out around him on the grey carpet. One leg was stretched out but the other was bent at the knee, slowly swaying from left to right, obstructing then revealing his most private parts repetitively. I got up on shaky legs and took off my own jeans with jerky movements, nearly tripping when I stepped out of them, realizing I still had my shoes on. I toed off my sneakers and laid down on top of him. Heero opened his thighs for me. I kissed him roughly and moved my hips, causing our erections to rub together. Without breaking the kiss Heero reached out and pulled out the bottom drawer of our shared desk. His hand blindly searched the cluttered contents and then he finally produced the bottle of lube.

I sat up and intended to take the bottle from him, but he popped it open and poured a liberal amount into his own hand instead. With that hand he started to jerk me off, spreading the cold liquid onto my arousal, warming it up with the friction of his palm. When he deemed me sufficiently slick he took his hand off me and waited eagerly. After a brief moment of consideration I grabbed his legs and placed them over my shoulders. Without much ado I pushed inside him.

He closed his eyes and threw his head back. His mouth was open in a soundless moan.

That wouldn't do, I thought to myself. Not giving him much time to adjust, I started to move. A blush spread from his cheeks to his chest and he raised his arms above his head again. I followed the long line of his limbs with my greedy gaze and then I noticed the full-length mirror on the closet door right in front of me. The mirror offered an entirely new perspective of me fucking Heero and I was thrilled at the sight. A devilish idea sprang to mind and I pulled out of him.

"What are you-?" My lover started to ask – clearly frustrated – but when I maneuvered him until he was up on all fours he became aware of the mirror. He stared at the reflection with a clear expression of shock for two full seconds before shamefully averting his eyes. A sharp moan escaped him when I thrust back inside him to the hilt.

"Oh, baby, you should see this…" I hissed. I couldn't wrestle the smirk from my face now that I could see his face even as I was fucking him from behind.

"Jesus, Duo, what makes you think I want to look at myself while I'm-"

"Because you look fucking hot."

He refused to look, focusing his gaze on a random spot on the floor.

I leaned forward, wrapped one arm around his waist and then pulled him upright along with me. I didn't force him to look at himself, I just started to jerk him off with my free hand and hoped curiosity would get the better of him. In the meantime I thoroughly enjoyed the sight of him held against me. His body shook with my every thrust. His dick was swollen and red in my fist. His expression was one of unadulterated gratification and need.

Eventually he started sneaking a few peeks every now and then until he finally let go of his embarrassment and his hooded eyes studied our reflection. Once he had taken in the sight, our gazes locked and we moaned in unison.

Already I was thinking about drawing him that way. My sketchbook was becoming increasingly lascivious, certainly not something I would every again show to anyone. But I was painfully aware I would never be able to accurately capture his beauty, let alone the intense stare he was giving me, which felt even more intimate than the movements of our bodies. Another idea popped up but I dismissed the solution initially. However, it kept nagging at me and the plan was kind of sexy and the thought alone further turned me on. I broke eye-contact and looked over my shoulder, locating my jeans. They were still close enough for me to reach. I leaned back and stretched out my arm, just being able to pinch a bit of the fabric between my fingers so I could pull the piece of clothing closer to me without disturbing our rhythm.

Between moans Heero asked: "What are you doing?"

I produced my phone from my pocket and switched on the camera function before bringing it around for Heero to see – and for the camera to see us, our reflection at least.

"No, Duo, no!" He objected and he tried to push my arm away.

"Just think of how hot it would be to watch this later," I whispered in his ear. It wasn't fair of me to argue with him, I knew he wasn't in any kind of state capable of cultivating rational thought. But, selfishly, I wanted to capture the moment so I could make it last forever – when my artistic skills would fall short and the clarity of my memory would fail me. I tried to persuade him with kisses.

"Fine," He murmured against my lips. "But you're only going to watch it once and then you are going to delete it. Promise?"

I grumbled but agreed. "I promise." With my other hand on his chin I kept his head turned so I could savagely kiss him. I hoped the camera would catch everything, I wasn't too preoccupied with holding it the right way, I was too distracted by the sensations that assaulted by body.

Heero wantonly lowered himself back on all fours. He powerfully rocked back against me..

"Ohh, baby!" I angled the phone down, pointing the camera at his ass and my dick pushing into it. It was pornographic and lewd but incredibly erotic to me.

Heero leaned down on his chest and shoulders. With his hands free he started masturbating. I could feel him tightening further around me, an indication that he was getting close to finding his relief. Since I wanted to make it last as long as possible, I slowed my pace until I eventually stilled.

His disapproval was apparent.

I pulled out of him and told him to lie on his back again.

Bitter at being pulled back from the edge he turned around and grunted: "Make up your damn mind."

I wasted no time getting back inside him, filming everything. Trying to get everything in frame did divide my attention. I was distracted and my lover made it apparent that he didn't like it in the least. Unexpectedly he grabbed my hand holding the phone and snarled: "Get that thing out of my face and fuck me like you mean it."

At his demanding tone I was shocked into inaction so he pried the device out of my fingers and threw it onto the bed. He wrapped his legs tightly around my waist, making sure my dick was all the way inside him and he clenched down on me. The combination of pain and pleasure certainly got my attention. With a smirk I lowered myself over him and locked our lips together. My hips started moving again, relentlessly and with a definite purpose. I broke our kiss so we could both vocalize freely as the pleasure built. His cries, moans and gasps were amazing. I did realize that if our direct neighbors were home they might have been able to hear him, but they still wouldn't have a clue that he was making those sounds because he was with me and not with some girl. My own low grunts and moans wouldn't be audible beyond the walls of our room.

His climax caught me by surprise, he came earlier than expected. I could feel his release between us, on both our stomachs. I kissed his ear, his neck and his shoulder, continuing to pump into him. When I came I bit into the flesh of his shoulder. It was all I could do to stop myself from screaming. After a few final thrusts I slumped on top of him and Heero brought his arms around me, hugging me to him.

I let out a drawled groan that sounded something like 'fuck' and Heero's chest shook with his breathless chuckles.

Somehow we both decided at the same time that it was time for us to get up. We got up from the floor and made jokes about the sticky semen on our stomachs, but I kissed Heero to reassure him when I caught the embarrassed blush on his face.

At his insistence we took separate showers. I finished first and when I was back upstairs I inconspicuously checked to see if anyone was in the rooms on either side of ours. Nobody was home. I plopped down on Heero's bed, cursing when I felt my phone underneath me, poking me in the ribs. I rolled over and grabbed the device. It appeared that when Heero had taken it from me he had neglected to turn it off and it had still been recording. With a cheeky little grin I played the video and skipped ahead to after he had thrown it away. The camera had landed face-down, so the image was dark, but the microphones had been left unobstructed by the sheets and the erotic audio was crystal clear, although our moans did sound a little hollow coming through the inferior speakers.

"You are going to delete that," Heero asserted as soon as he walked into the room. "It's only a matter of time before you leave your phone lying around somewhere…"

"Yeah yeah yeah," I concurred. "Just let me watch it once."

"You want to jerk off to it or something?"

"Definitely. Besides, it's my 'scientific evidence' that I'm hotter than Trowa. Or at least that you think so." I groaned when I got whipped in the abdomen with his towel.

"Just get rid of it when you're 'done with it'."

"I will. I promise you." I grinned at him. "Don't you want to see it too?"

"Why would I want to see myself getting fucked up the ass?" He sat down at the desk and turned his back to me.

At his crass remark I started to chew on the inside of my cheek. "Never mind."

I actually got around to doing something useful that day. I finished my homework even before Heero and I had dinner together and in the evening I completed a project for a class that I had been dreading. We were in our room together for the entirety of the day, so I didn't exactly feel compelled to watch the video in his presence and decided I would look at it later in privacy. Heero probably didn't need, nor want, to see how much I enjoyed it.

Night fell and we tucked into bed early. It had been a busy and thus exhausting week for the both of us and I could see it written on his face as clearly as he could probably read it on mine.

"Goodnight," I said and then I flicked the light off with my toe.

"Goodnight." From the sound of it he already had his face buried in the pillow.

I didn't remember anything after imagining how cute he must have looked, laying sprawled in his bed with his nose nuzzling the soft pillow. I must have instantly fallen into a blissful, dreamless sleep. Unfortunately that sleep was disturbed much too soon for my liking. I wasn't sure what time it was but judging by the fuzziness in my brain it was some ungodly hour. For a second I wondered what had roused me from my slumber – more like; awoken me from my coma – but then there it was again, that shrill sound that had made its way into Morpheus' world.

The ringing of Heero's phone.

"Oh, fuck it…" I breathed. When I didn't hear my roommate move in the bed below me I called out his name.

"Hmm, give me a second…" He croaked.

At times like that I wished Heero would just mute his phone whenever we went to bed, because his mother still hadn't figured out that we were in a completely different time zone, but I could empathize that he didn't want to risk missing an opportunity to talk to his grandmother, especially now that her 'good days' were an extraordinarily rare occasion. In between the chirping of the phone I could hear his hand graze the rough carpet as he blinded groped the floor by his bed, trying to locate the noisy, vibrating phone.

"Got it."

I rolled onto my other side, hoping I could fall back asleep as Heero talked to the other side of the world where it was, at the moment, somewhere in the late afternoon – the next goddamn day!

"Moshi moshi," He breathed upon answering the phone.

I closed my eyes and tried to get comfortable again, but I was distracted by his monotonous, single syllable replies – mostly non-word, as far as I was able to tell.

"Ah… Hn… Hai… Hn… Arigatou." Then there was a beep of his phone.

It was apparent the conversation had ended and he had hung up, which meant the call had been bizarrely short. I sighed in relief, I was grateful we could both go back to sleep. "That was quick."

Heero didn't respond.

I frowned. I raised my head off the pillow so I could hear through both ears. "Heero?" I thought I heard the softest whimper and my body tensed up. I rolled to the other side and leaned out of bed to look over the edge but it was too damn dark and my eyes hadn't adjusted yet so I couldn't see a damn thing. "Heero?" I tentatively called again. This time I was positive I heard a muted sob. I sat upright and scooted down to the foot-end so I could climb out of the top bunk. My heart was beating nervously and I had a sick feeling in my stomach. I worried he had just gotten the call I had always feared would come.

His grandmother…

My eyes finally started to adjust and I could vaguely see him lying stiffly on his back, clutching the phone to his chest. His entire body was shaking. "Heero?" This time the pitch in my voice changed. I was close to tears. I could see he was crying but trying to hold it back and not make a sound. I knelt at the side of his bed and it was then that I could see his devastated expression. "Oh…" My lower lip started to quiver. He didn't need to say anything, he didn't need to explain. I knew. "Heero, I'm so sorry." I touched his arm, wanting desperately to give him some comfort. I wished I could ease away all of his pain.

Heero moved away from me, turning onto his side, facing the wall. "I'm fine, leave me alone," He choked.

Obviously he was far from fine. I wasn't going to let him push me away like that. I wasn't going to let him suffer by himself. Without asking for permission I lifted up the blanket and got into bed with him.

"Duo, don't!"

Once I had settled I put my arms around him, squeezing him to my chest tightly. I could feel how badly he was trembling and shaking with suppressed sobs. "I'm so sorry," I whispered. "I'm so sorry."

He started to cry, really cry. His body contorted with the intensity of his grief.

"It's okay. It's okay to cry." I was crying myself.

He let go of the phone and took hold of my hands, holding them to his chest, his fingers tightly wound around mine.

"She's dead!" He wailed.

"I know," I croaked. "Shhh…" I gently rocked him back and forth and let him cry. I hated that he had to go through this. I wished he could have been spared this pain. But honestly it had been a case of waiting for the other shoe to drop for the past two years, when his grandmother's Alzheimer started to get really bad and her health deteriorated quickly along with it. I couldn't even remember how often she had suffered through pneumonia, how often she had been operated for heart problems and how many negative side-effects there were to the large quantity of medication she was on. She was old and weak and in a way she was ready, but the problem was that the people who are left behind are never ready. Even when you see it coming, it still catches you off guard, maybe precisely because she had been sick for so long. She had battled through so many illnesses and each time she managed to recover. When someone can overcome so much, they start to seem indestructible.

"I didn't even get to say goodbye."

I hoped he couldn't feel the wetness of my tears on the back of his neck as I nuzzled his hair. "Shhh... She knows. Whatever you would have said, she already knew."

I remembered what he had always told me. That his grandmother had been the only person to have ever loved him. I wished I could tell him that I loved him as well. I would have if I believed it would have offered him comfort, but I was too worried it wasn't what he wanted to hear from me and I didn't want to risk further upsetting him and having him reject me, leaving him to deal with this tragedy alone. I needed to be there for him. He needed me, as his friend.


	20. Chapter 20

**Thousand Words**

**Chapter Twenty**

I watched him with dull, tired eyes. I hadn't been able to sleep. Heero had eventually fallen into a light, restless slumber, crying himself to sleep, his sobbing and shivering must have exhausted him. I hadn't even dared to close my eyes. I needed to stay awake and make sure no nightmares would haunt him. I had held him against me all night. He had turned around to face me, clutching a handful of my shirt in his hand and burying his face under my chin. I was grateful he allowed the closeness, I could only hope it would help ease his pain in some small way. But that changed by the time he woke up the next morning. I was pretty sure he hadn't looked at me all day, there had been no eye-contact. He barely spoke too. Needless to say, he had me in a state of constant worry.

He was rushing to get dressed. He had been at the library all day, explicitly instructing me not to bother him. He would be missing at least two, probably three days' worth of classes, so he had to prepare to prevent himself from falling behind too far with what little time there was left before graduation. He didn't return until later that afternoon, to shower, stating he had to get ready to go to his father's house for the mandatory Sunday dinner. Nothing else. He was so curt with his words I wondered if he practiced his sentences in his head before saying them out loud, eliminating all words but the absolutely necessary ones.

"Are you sure you want to go?" I was still in my sleepwear, sitting on the edge of the bottom bunk. I'd spent most of the day there, trying to sleep, without much luck.

"Want? No."

"I'm sure he'd forgive you for missing Sunday night dinner, considering what has happened."

"I have to ask him for money anyway."

I sighed, staring as he paused to tie the shoelaces on his beat-up sneakers. Heero needed money to buy airplane tickets if he wanted to be present for his grandmother's funeral. "I have money," I reminded him.

He didn't respond.

"Heero, I wouldn't mind paying. I-" I stilled. "Are you listening to me?"

"Yes!" Was his agitated response as he rummaged through every pocket on every article of his clothing – on his body, on the floor and in the closet – clearly looking for something.

"You shouldn't have to go spend the evening at your dad's place because he won't give you money otherwise."

He started ripping clothes off the shelves, tossing them onto the floor. "Where is my wallet?"

With a grunt I got up from the bed and grabbed his wallet, which was on the desk in plain sight. "Heero."

He turned around, avoiding eye-contact and noticed the black faux-leather wallet I reached out to him. He snatched it from my hand. "Where did you find it?" It sounded like an accusation, like he thought I had been hiding it from him.

"It was on the desk…"

"Oh…" At that point he must have remembered putting it there himself, because the animosity evaporated. He stuffed it in the back pocket of his jeans.

"Heero, I'm offering to pay for your ticket."

"I know!"

"Then why won't you just accept it and not force yourself to go see that asshole tonight?"

"I don't want your money, okay?" Finally, he looked right at me. His eyes were stormy. "I don't want you to have to take care of me. I'm not some charity!" As an afterthought he spat angrily: "And I'm not your boyfriend either!"

"I'm not offering money to a charity, or to my boyfriend," I sneered in response, but I calmed myself before continuing more gently: "I'm offering money to my best friend."

"I don't want to be a burden to you," He said through gritted teeth.

I placed my hands on his shoulders. "Heero, you are not a burden. Please, I want to help you. I want to be there for you."

He looked away. "I have to go, or I'll miss my bus and I'll be late."

I realized I shouldn't argue with him. I only wanted to make things easier for him, I shouldn't give him a hard time, regardless of my best intentions. If he didn't feel comfortable accepting that kind of money from me, I shouldn't force it. "Okay, okay," I tried to hush him. I wanted to give him a hug before he left, but he pushed past me and he was out the door before I could react.

I let out a deep breath and ran my hand through my hair. I knew I had no right to be upset with him, but I was disappointed that we had reverted back to this place; back to a place where he couldn't let himself get close to me and get intimate with me. Back to the place where he had to prove to everyone, but mostly to himself, that he was still a tough guy. It was in this exact place that things nearly went horribly wrong last time. When he fucked that girl in the library.

But I couldn't blame him and I shouldn't expect too much from him. He was grieving. He shouldn't have to consider my feelings about a relationship that, according to him, was non-existent. Although he might feel he was better equipped to deal with the situation by himself, I was going to be there for him, in whatever capacity he needed me. With determination I put on some semi-presentable clothes and headed out to the library. I didn't have my own laptop and Heero never let me use his, so I had to make use of the public computers.

It was quiet in the large space. Only a handful of people had scattered throughout the building, all of them going out of their way to find their own private corner; one person per table that could seat eight and sitting on the floor between the tall bookcases. I took a seat in front of the nearest computer and logged in.

If Heero insisted on his dad paying his plane ticket instead of me, I would accept that, but I wasn't going to let him go alone and his cheap father surely wouldn't foot the bill for a second seat. The prices of a roundtrip to Japan made me a little anxious. If Heero had taken me up on my offer it would have cost me my entire savings. Still, I would have done it without a moment's hesitation. The cheapest flights departed from Pittsburgh international airport and arrived in Tokyo, where we would have to switch to a smaller plane going to Fukuoka, on the largest of the southern islands of Japan. The round trip would cost over a thousand dollars per seat, quite the chunk of change. But Heero needed to be there for her funeral and I needed to be there for him. There was never any doubt in my mind.

I sat back and wondered what it would be like to finally be in the country where he was born. I had always been curious about his heritage, I never thought I would be introduced to Japan in this manner. I had always wished I could have made the trip with Heero during happier times. I would have liked to have met his grandmother too, even though she was too far gone to have been able to comprehend who I was – she hardly recognized her own grandson anymore, after all. I wondered if she would have liked me, if she had met me during a time when her mind was still lucid. And of course I wondered what she would have thought about the exact nature of my affection for Heero. He had always painted a picture of a kind, but traditional woman – a woman of honor – that had me a little worried that she would have never approved of me, let alone of me having a romantic relationship with her cherished grandson.

I wondered about his mother too. She didn't sound like a pleasant woman. I had no doubt she would dislike me.

I headed back to our dorm room and ended up in Heero's bunk bed again. The emotional turmoil was exhausting and my resolution to stay awake and wait up for my roommate was in vain. With my heavy head finally finding some rest in the soft support of the pillow I fell asleep.

What startled me back into consciousness was Heero coming home later that evening. Obviously he hadn't been expecting me to be asleep, so he stormed into the room. He threw the door open so powerfully that it hit the wall behind it with a bang. He tossed his jacket into a corner with a growl and kicked the door shut again.

"Heero?" I sat up immediately.

"That fucking asshole!" He looked over at me and frowned. "Why are you in my bed?"

I purposefully neglected to answer his question and instead posed my own: "What's wrong? What happened?"

He snarled an obscenity of choice and dropped down into one of the chairs. His fingers attacked his shoelaces but he had little patience and ended up forcefully toeing off his sneakers and kicking them away.

Realizing he wasn't going to volunteer any information I pressed: "Don't tell me that bastard won't pay for a ticket?" We had always known Heero's father was an insufferable dick, but for him to refuse to pay to let his son go to his grandmother's funeral!

"He can't!" Heero emphasized.

"He can't?"

He shook his head, not wanting to say any more about the subject, but my prying eyes wouldn't relent, so eventually he elaborated: "Halfway through dinner I ask him if he could give me more allowance so I can go to Japan and he tells me that he absolutely has no money to spare." He made angry gestures with his hands as he told the story. "He tells me that he is actually behind on my tuition payments and he has to pay for that first or I'll be expelled!" He let out a bitter laugh.

"Jesus Christ."

"He says it'll be fine, when he gets his next paycheck. But he can't pay for a ticket. Not this week." Another laugh. "But he says he's happy to pay for a trip two weeks from now, so I can visit her grave. Fucking father of the year, right there."

I got up from the bed and knelt down on the carpet in front of him, placing my hands on his knees. "Heero-"

He looked at me pathetically. "Please don't. I know what you're going to say, but I don't want-" He buried his face in his hands and I could feel he started to shake again. He realized that if he continued to refuse my help he would not be able to go to the funeral and clearly it upset him, but he didn't want me to see the emotion on his face.

"Heero," I breathed and I gently took hold of his wrists and pulled his hands down into his lap. I looked up at his miserable expression with sympathy. "You don't have to be so proud." I told him carefully. "You can take my money. You can let me see you cry. I won't think less of you."

He whispered: "I don't like that I need you."

I felt my heart break a little, but I wouldn't let the small smile falter from my lips. "Why not?" After a pause I added vulnerably: "I need you." My admission didn't seem to comfort him, so I bit my lip and stopped myself from saying that I loved him. My relationship with Heero was elastic. Over the course of the past few months I had been able to stretch it quite far, but I always knew that it would reach a point where I pulled too hard and it would snap. I couldn't let that happen right now, not when things were so delicate and Heero was already so distraught. One day I would confess my feelings to him, I knew I couldn't keep it bottled up inside me forever, but for now I had to ease up on the tension.

"I promise I'll pay you back."

I sighed. "If that makes you feel better."

Heero nodded and pulled his hands out of my weak grip, rubbing his palms over his jeans to dry the nervous sweat. My nervous sweat or his, I didn't know.

"So will you let me buy us tickets?"

His eyebrow twitched. "Us? Tickets?"

"I'm coming with you, you idiot."

"Duo, it's really expensive."

"I know, but I can afford it," I reassured him. It didn't matter much to me that I would be graduating in two months with nothing in my bank account. I knew that I'd miss him more than I would miss my savings and I would never forgive myself if I let him go by himself.

We planned the trip and booked the flights. The wake was Wednesday evening and the funeral was on Thursday afternoon, but taking the time difference into account, we had to fly Tuesday afternoon and we would arrive early in the evening the next day, local time. We would fly back to the States a few hours after the funeral. The time zones and the long flight made for a bit of a hassle and for the first time I was sympathetic to his mother never bothering to figure it out. The trip would cost us only two days' worth of classes, at least as far as Heero was concerned. I knew that after a journey like that, I would be skipping classes that Friday as well. I didn't worry about missing classes, all the teachers ever did in the last few weeks was provide feedback on the projects we were supposed to complete in our own time anyway. I felt confident enough I could finish my ongoing projects successfully.

Heero was needlessly apologetic, I tried to reassure him, but I couldn't get it out of his head that I really wanted to help him and to be there for him and that he wasn't, in the least, a burden to me.

I traded shifts with one of the guys at work so I'd have Tuesday and Thursday night off, instead I worked two Mondays in a row. I really hated working on Mondays, those were never any fun – and always with whiny Martin who loved working the quiet Mondays – but I had to keep the money rolling in, as little as it was.

Halfway into my shift and halfway into yet another meaningless discussion with Martin, about rubbing the beer glasses dry in a way that would really make them shine for fuck sakes, Obie walked into the quiet bar, his face was white and he made a beeline for me.

"Dude, I just heard."

"Heard what?" I dried one of the glasses under the watchful gaze of Martin. I could feel his disapproving stare on my hands.

"About Heero's grandmother."

"Oh?" I frowned. "Heard from who?" Heero certainly wouldn't have told him. He hardly spoke to me, let alone to others.

"Nash."

I nodded. "Right." Nash had made another crass remark that morning to Heero as we headed out the door and I had gone back inside to plead him to be nice for just a little while. Hoping to get some sympathy from him I had explained the situation. He had seemed genuinely sorry about giving Heero a bad time.

"He told me you guys are flying to Japan tomorrow."

"Yeah."

"Why didn't you tell me?"

"I was going to. I just have a lot on my mind right now."

"Shit man." He took a seat and ordered a beer.

"No can do, it's Freshman-night, we don't serve alcohol."

"Fuck. Right."

"Coke?"

"Sure," He said with a shrug and accepted the bottle and glass I handed to him. "So, uh… Is it a round-trip for the both or you… or?"

"Of course. Why?" I raised my finger at him, needing him to hold his thoughts for a moment and turned to face Martin who was in my personal space, scrutinizing me. "Fuck. Off."

He scurried to the other end of the bar.

"Why would you ask that?" I rephrased.

"Well, he's gotta be pretty devastated. I thought maybe he'd want to spend some time there, stay with his mom."

I snorted. "He hates his mother. Almost as much as she hates him, I am told."

"But still. Now that his grandma is gone, things gotta be different between them. Shared grief and all? If someone in my family died, I'd wanna stay home for a while. Granted, my family's in Kentucky, but… When my granddad died right after high school I postponed going to college for a year. Being home made me feel close to him. Weird huh?"

"Not at all." I stared at him. "I never knew that. About your grandfather and staying home a year."

He chuckled and picked at the paper label on his bottle of coke. "It's not really 'guy-talk'."

"Hm."

"But you're sure Heero's coming back with you?"

"Yeah, of course. He's only a few credits short of graduating after all."

"I know, but I thought maybe he'd want to take a year off and come back next year to finish."

"Heero is not the kind of guy to take a year off," I said with a fake chuckle. Obie was starting to make me nervous. "He can do it, he can graduate."

"You're probably right. You know him best."

"I do," I asserted and still I had no idea what Heero was thinking more often than not. Eager to change the subject I asked him about his wife, Jenny, and her plans to do a semester abroad.

"I told her she should do it, if it makes her happy."

I nodded. "Good. I think that's the right thing."

"Yeah. I'm not too excited about it, but I don't want to be the Neanderthal that needs his little wifey to stay in the cave."

With a laugh I said: "Good call. She wouldn't want you to be that Neanderthal either."

"Speaking of the misses…" He looked down at his watch. "I should bounce. Good luck with… you know."

"Thanks."

"Give Heero my condolences?"

"Will do."

He rapped his fist on the bar and then slid off the barstool and left.

To make it through my shift I scared Martin into silence, towering over him and barking at him as his senior. I just needed him to stop looking over my shoulder and scrutinizing everything I did. The one good thing that could be said for the Monday shift was that you could do it on autopilot, so I didn't need him hovering by me, requiring my attention.

The next day I had classes until four thirty but I decided to skip the final workshop of the day to give myself time to prepare for our flight later that day. When I arrived at the dorm room Heero wasn't there. I knew he had the afternoon off, but I figured he was hiding in the library. I knew I had to give him as much space as I could stand, so I took care of my own responsibilities and tried not to worry too much about my friend.

I got down onto the floor and reached under the lower bunk for my duffel bag that I had kicked under there after returning from that awful trip to the 'Maxwell ranch' last Christmas. I zipped it open and was surprised by the items I found inside. I had forgotten all about them. First I lifted out the picture of myself in fat camp, leaning back against a centuries old tree – but my torso was nearly as wide as its trunk. It was the picture Nash had found, one he had nearly publicized for the entire school to see. Heero saved me from that. I smiled at the bitter sweet memory. The second item was the small but heavy box with elegant script that my parents had gotten me for Christmas; the hideous golden watch. I still planned on returning it to them. In fact, I was looking forward to it. I was going to tell them I was gay along with it. I couldn't wait to see the looks on their faces.

I opened the bottom drawer of our desk and tossed the two items inside. They were lost among the clutter, much like our well-used bottle of lube. I got up and started packing clothes. Only a single set of casual clothes, a couple of pairs of underwear and socks and of course the single neat suit I had kept and a black shirt and black tie to go with it.

As I was packing the door opened and Heero slipped inside.

"You should start packing. We have to be at the train station in little over an hour."

He set to work; retrieving his own bag and stuffing it with the necessary clothes. Heero didn't even have a black suit. When I asked him about it he explained that his mother would arrange a suit for him to wear to the funeral.

"Ready?" I asked.

"Yeah."

"Let's go." I locked the door to our room behind us and we left in silence.

We took the subway to the train station and after a brief wait the train took us to Pittsburgh International Airport. Our luggage we were allowed to take with us as carry-on bags. After going through security, getting casually frisked and struggling with our shoelaces and having to go through the metal detector three times because it kept reacting to buttons on my jeans, we were free to roam the duty-free section of the airport while we waited for our plane to start boarding.

I purchased a box of chocolates, which – even at duty-free – was still overpriced. During stressful and sad times I still couldn't help but reach out to comfort food and I thought it wouldn't be too bad to indulge a little, to take the edge off things. We took a seat on an uncomfortable bench overlooking the tarmac and our plane, which was being fuelled. Heero sat up straight. I slouched, with the box of chocolates in my lap.

"At that rate you will finish the box before we are over international waters," He pointed out dryly.

I smiled, I was just happy he finally spoke. He had literally not said a single word since we left our dorm. "Want one?"

"Just one?"

"As many as you like."

He looked at the remaining selection in contemplation and picked a chocolate I didn't like anyway – one he knew I didn't like. I wondered if he chose that one on purpose as a favor to me.

"I like snacking at the airport. Makes me feel better. I always get nervous before a flight."

He shrugged.

"Have one with caramel. Those will definitely make you feel better."

He didn't say anything and took the chocolate that I suggested to him. He chewed on it thoughtfully, looking out the window.

"Feel better?"

He shook his head. His gaze was distant.

My face fell, I didn't mean to imply that a superior chocolate could make him forget about the death of his beloved grandmother. Really, all food ever did was cure superficial aches and pains. I put the box on the empty seat to my left and I took hold of his hand that was laying limp between us. He looked at me, the questions evident in his eyes, but I stared back at him and said nothing, only squeezed his hand. There was no one there to recognize us, we were safe to hold hands. When it didn't seem like he was going to pry his fingers out of mine I pulled his hand into my lap, holding it with both of mine. I gently stroked one of my thumbs back and forth over his knuckles. He relaxed and, in silence, we waited, hand-in-hand. Even as more people started to crowd the gate he didn't feel compelled to pull away from me and my heart fluttered with a sense of joy that was probably totally misplaced and inappropriate considering the circumstances.

Our hands didn't detach until it was time to start boarding. We found our cramped seats in the middle of the plane, right over the wing. I gave Heero the aisle seat. The man next to me made a nervous remark about us being right by the fuel tank. We were supposed to take comfort in the fact that in case of an explosion our death would be instant and painless. I stared at him incredulously. Not helping, dude.

Once we were up in the air and the man had fallen asleep with his earphones on and the other passengers started to quiet down, settling in for the long flight, I felt comfortable enough to produce a pencil from my bag and started drawing on the pages of a Sudoku book I had purchased along with my box of chocolates. The lines and numbers that were already printed on the page didn't bother me much, I could see through it.

Heero tried to kill some time leafing through a scientific magazine that was in the pouch on the back of the chair in front of him. Eventually he studied the emergency manual.

When he went to the bathroom I didn't think much of him and continued to draw; a character from a popular series of comic books I used to be into, but when I realized ten minutes later that he hadn't returned to his seat I started to feel anxious.

He returned a little later with red eyes but he pretended nothing was wrong and grabbed the magazine for a second time. I didn't say anything, I didn't want to make him feel self-conscious.

"You should try to get some sleep," I suggested, noticing he was bored. He must have been so distracted by his own thoughts that he had forgotten to pack something to entertain himself with. To my surprise he didn't argue with me, instead he got comfortable in his seat – as comfortable as was possible in coach – he leaned his head on my shoulder and closed his eyes. Without thinking I kissed the top of his head and breathed in the smell of his hair.

If anyone around us saw, they certainly didn't care, I got no odd looks.

After a ten hour flight we landed in Tokyo Japan. I was a bit dazed and confused by the foreign script on the overhead signs. My sleep deprivation didn't help matters either. Luckily Heero had made this trip many times before, so he was familiar with the large airport. Effortlessly he guided us to the correct gate for our lay-over and we didn't have to wait long for the smaller airplane to Fukuoka to start boarding.

I was gripping both armrests in fear the entire time. The flight was jolty, the smaller plane was quite heavily affected by the turbulence and more than once we dropped suddenly in altitude and I had to swallow my heart back down.

We landed at Fukuoka airport and our journey was still not complete. We had to take a train to Shingu, Heero's hometown. I just followed my friend, he knew exactly where to go. The train ride was smooth and perfectly scheduled, cutting through interesting landscapes and providing a view of the Genkai-nada Sea – Heero told me – on our left, as we neared our destination.

Shingu was a coastal town, pretty small and visually it matched with how I had imagined it. Nothing remarkable, but it was still special in a way, perhaps only because I felt a new sense of closeness to Heero, now that I had been where he was from. We passed an IKEA, that was interesting.

We arrived at a small white house with wooden shutters on all the windows. A path of stepping stones led up to a sliding front door that was unlocked. Heero pulled the door open and stepped inside, calling out something in Japanese. In the area by the door we took off our shoes and there were slippers ready for both of us. Guest-slippers.

Coming to greet us in the hallway was Heero's mother. She approached him and stood on the tips of her toes – she was even shorter than he was – to give him a hug; a hug that he did not reciprocate.

With a flat tone he introduced me, first in Japanese, then in English.

"Duo, this is my mother, Rei."

Trying my best to be polite I made a slight bow. "Hello, misses Yuy. It's an honor to finally meet you."

She pursed her lips as she looked me up and down. She was a little heavy for her height. She had short arms and short legs. I noticed little resemblance between her and her son. She was so short she must have been looking up my nostrils more than anything else. She didn't say anything in response, clearly not bothered with being polite. I was right when I suspected she would resent me from the get-go. She shuffled into the living room without a word.

"Something I said?"

"Don't worry about it. I'll take you upstairs, we can put our bags in my room. She's going to make tea so we do not have much time. You never miss tea." He rolled his eyes and led the way up the narrow staircase.

Traditional rice screen doors separated the small hallway from a bedroom, an office and a bathroom. Heero explained his mother's bedroom and private bathroom were downstairs, they used to be his grandmother's quarters when she had still lived with them and the office had been his mother's bedroom. But when they were forced to take his grandmother to the home for the sick and elderly, his mother had taken the large downstairs bedroom without any scrupulous. She had hip-problems, apparently. I hoped that meant she never came upstairs. The petit woman frightened me a little and I really needed a good night's sleep without worrying about her tiny frame looming over me in the dark.

Heero's bedroom was tiny and dull. It took me a while to realize it, but there was no bed, only a desk and a closet. A black suit hung from a hanger on the closet door.

"Uhh…" That was the extent of my eloquence after a journey of approximately fifteen hours.

"We sleep on futons. It's a kind of mattress that you roll up during the day. They're in the closet right now."

"We sleep on the floor?" I couldn't hide my skepticism.

"Yeah. Sorry."

"No, it's fine. It's just… you should have told me, I wouldn't have given you any grief about the top bunk back home, I would have gladly let you sleep there if I had known you had slept on the floor all your life."

He snorted. "You make it sound like we sleep on a bed of cardboard boxes in a wet alley."

I put my bag down and looked around the room. There was nothing distinguishable about it. No pictures. No keepsakes. No decoration of any kind. The floor was covered with mats of woven straw, the walls were beige. The view out window was that of the white wall of the neighboring house and the driveway in between.

"It's a little different from your bedroom at your parents' place…" He said sheepishly.

My mouth formed a sad smile. "That doesn't matter."

Rei called from the bottom of the stairs. Something Japanese.

"I guess that means tea is ready?" I said with a chuckle.

"Yeah. Come on. Get it over with."

I was a little apprehensive kneeling down on the living room floor by the salon table, watching as Rei poured the tea ceremoniously in utter silence. When she sat down and we all took our first sips I tried to start op conversation. I remembered Heero telling me in passing once that his mother did speak English, but I must have been mistaken because I received zero response. After a while she gave me a look which clearly communicated that she wanted me to shut my trap. At that point she shared a quiet conversation with Heero in Japanese. He was clearly irked and tried to encourage her to speak in English, but she refused.

Yeah, she wasn't a fan of the big American.

We were wordlessly dismissed after finishing our tea and we went back upstairs, taking turns in the bathroom to freshen up.

Dinner was equally quiet and uneasy and it was difficult for me to pretend that I was enjoying the serving of seaweed on the side. My palate was far too unadventurous for that sort of thing. But I figured it was rude not to finish my meal, so I ate as much of it as I could stomach. The tense atmosphere didn't help the food go down either. My stomach twisted into all kinds of uncomfortable knots.

After dinner we got dressed in our suits – Rei put on a traditional, black kimono – and we walked to the rest-home that was only a few streets removed from the small house. Because Heero's grandmother had been living at the home for several years, the wake was held there. My heart was beating so loudly I was afraid someone might hear the thuds coming from inside my chest. It was so quiet in the hallway, all I heard were our footsteps and an occasional cough coming from one of the rooms.

A nurse guided us to an event-room in the back of the building, and I supposed most 'events' held there were wakes. The décor of the space was dreary in its attempt to be minimalistic and respectful. It was like they feared everything would be too cheerful, so the room was washed in shades of beige, with not a single picture frame on the walls. There were some chairs by the window, but straight ahead was the simple casket and by it a single vase with flowers.

Rei walked right up to the open casket but Heero stopped dead in his tracks in the doorway, right in front of me. I tried to gently encourage him to move closer with a nudge to his shoulder but he was too stiff and wouldn't budge.

Rei reached into the casket and seemed to be adjusting something. She beckoned for her son to step forward, but he shook his head. He said something to her in Japanese that made her scowl, but after heaving a deep sigh she stepped out of the room and closed the door.

"Do-" I cleared my throat, "Do you want me to leave as well?"

"No," He replied curtly and he took a few steps closer to where his grandmother lay.

Wanting to be close to him to offer him any needed support, I followed him, but always stayed a step behind. Now that we were closer to the casket I could see into it. I saw a frail, old woman, dressed in a pristine, white kimono, lie like she was asleep. Her hands rested on her stomach, thin fingers clasped together. Her hair was silver in the light. I was expecting him to be emotional at the sight – Hell, I felt myself tearing up – but instead he remarked rather matter-of-factly:

"It doesn't look like her."

"Oh?"

He shook his head. "It looks like one of those wax statues. There's a resemblance, but you can tell it's not the real person."

I waited silently for him to walk closer to the casket, but he didn't. He kept standing there, a few feet removed from her, his shoulders tense. "You can say your goodbyes to her now," I urged him.

"No. I can't," Was his forlorn reply. "That's not her."

I placed a hand on his shoulder and squeezed, but pulled it back and stuffed it into my pocket when the door suddenly opened again and Rei came back inside.

After only a few short moments the first people came to pay their respects. In between receiving condolences Heero explained to me that none of them were family, they were just neighbors and old friends of his grandmother. Even her old doctor and dentist made an appearance. Many of the people handed Heero's mother a silver envelope with black ribbons. Condolence money, my friend would later inform me; an old custom.

It didn't last long, there weren't that many people close enough to the family to care to show up. I stood off to the side and simply observed, at one point noting with an inappropriate sense of humor how much taller I was than everyone. An hour later we went back to the house, Rei leading the way.

We toed off our shoes in the hallway and were about to head up the stairs when his mother spoke to him quietly but urgently. Of course I didn't know what she had said, but judging by Heero's expression he didn't appreciate her words. His initial reply was monotonous as he was holding on to his patience, but when she seemed to insist on something, hissing at him, he sneered at her in return. He was flustered and tense and glaring at her. Rei raised her voice at him, wanting to get her way about something but Heero told her off.

Suddenly the short woman turned to look at me and for the first time she spoke directly to me: "You can sleep in office."

I raised my eyebrows. So she does speak English! I was about to nod and agree with her when Heero grabbed my arm and pulled me up a few more steps. He yelled something at her over his shoulder which certainly didn't please her, but at least it seemed to shut her up. She stomped her small foot on the floor and shuffled into the living room with a huff. Meanwhile Heero and I made our way up the stairs and into his room. He slammed the screen door shut and braced his hands against the wall, letting his head fall.

"What was that all about?" I wondered. "If it appeases your mom, I don't mind sleeping in the office."

"I don't want you to sleep in the office," He said through gritted teeth. He sighed and turned around, leaning his back against the wall. "But…" He frowned and looked away. "Maybe you should."

I closed the distance between us and planted my hands against the wall on either side of his head. Leaning in close I whispered: "I sleep where you want me to sleep."

He wrapped my tie around his hand and pulled me down but stopped his tugging before our lips would meet. "I want you to sleep with me."

"Then I will."

His face contorted – annoyed with himself – as he admitted: "I want you to want to sleep here with me."

I nuzzled my face into the juncture of his neck and shoulder and wrapped my arms around his waist. I didn't say anything, I didn't trust my words, but I hoped my actions were clear enough. I held him to me tightly and squeezed tighter still when I felt him return the embrace.

We changed into our sleepwear and Heero fetched two futons, quilted blankets and pillows from the closet. He rolled the thin mattresses out on the floor. The room was so cramped there was no space left between the beds. I crawled under the sheets and tried to settle in comfortably. It wasn't as bad as I had feared, but it wasn't like my bed at home either, I could tell there was only a thin layer between myself and the hard surface of the matted floor.

Heero switched off the light and crawled into the bed next to mine.

In the darkness I asked: "Are you okay?"

He didn't reply.

"Are you dreading tomorrow?"

No answer.

I reached out and my hand found his upper arm. He was lying on his side, facing away from me. I caressed the skin left bare by his short-sleeved shirt. Without a word he rolled over and scooted closer until he was lying right beside me, facing me, on my futon. He let out a shaky breath. I turned to lie on my back and wrapped an arm around him, with my hand in his unruly hair I eased his head onto my chest. He lay an arm across my abdomen and draped a leg over mine.

"Goodnight," I said.

"Goodnight."

It was another sleepless night for me, but I was happy he was able to get some rest, sleeping soundly against me. When he turned around during the night, I positioned myself behind him and kept my arms around him. I enjoyed the soft rise and fall of his chest and the way the hair at the nape of his neck tickled my nose. Admittedly I was worried about his mother barging in, especially when the sun started to rise, but that didn't happen.

He started to wake up and turned around with his eyes still closed. I longingly studied his face, the expression peaceful as he was still not fully conscious. After a few moments his eyes fluttered open and he stared into mine for a long time until he eventually whispered: "We have to get up." And he promptly did.

Breakfast was as awkward as I had expected it to be. Nothing was said between the three of us but I did catch Rei looking at me more than once. Her stare made me uneasy, it was as if she suspected there was something between us, but if even people at school hadn't yet figured it out, how could she possibly know? She only saw her son a few weeks a year for the past four years and it wasn't as if they were close enough to really know anything about each other.

The cremation was scheduled shortly before lunch. There was a brief, traditional ceremony at the temple adjacent to the crematorium where the casket had been brought to overnight. A priest chanted. Even fewer people were present than had shown up for the wake. After the ceremony Heero and his mother escorted the casket inside for the cremation. I waited in the lot at the bottom of the steps of the temple. I was pacing back and forth. I couldn't deny that I was affected by the ordeal.

When they emerged from the building and met up with me I couldn't help myself; I didn't care about his mother's disproving look, I gave him a hug.

The three of us had lunch at a nearby restaurant with the two other people who had stayed behind in support of the family. But Heero and I killed most of the time outside in the small parking lot, not talking, just sitting shoulder to shoulder on a concrete barrier.

Two hours later we were expected back at the crematorium. I had to wait outside – Heero wanted me to come along, but his mother insisted and I silently begged him not to argue with her. They performed another ritual in private and Heero came out carrying the grey, stone urn with her ashes and we walked up the hill to the graveyard. The headstones were close together as there were no bodies buried there, everyone was cremated and buried underneath the headstones were only the urns with the deceased's ashes. We halted at what appeared to be the family plot; three similarly styled, modest headstones. The middle grave was open and under the watchful eyes of the priest and his mother, Heero kneeled and placed the urn inside, beside another one. Two workers closed the heavy, granite seal and then left with their heads bowed. I watched, intrigued by the foreign ritual, as Heero was handed a small bucket with water and soap and a cloth and he approached the headstone. Two names appeared to be carved into the stone, the one of the left was colored in with a kind of red paint and it was that red paint that Heero washed off with the cloth. When he was done he put the items down and came to stand beside me in front of the grave, staring at the names with empty eyes.

The guests were the first to leave, then Rei and finally the priest, briefly laying a hand on Heero's back to offer his support. We were left alone in the graveyard.

"When my grandfather died," Heero started to explain flatly, "We had my grandmother's name carved into the headstone as well. It's cheaper that way. When the spouse is still living, their name is painted red. When they die and join the grave, you wash off the red. They're together again." He let out an abrupt chuckle. "They're probably already fighting."

I smiled at him. I was startled when suddenly I felt his hand take a hold of mine. I glanced sideways at him, but he was still staring at the headstone.

Our fingers entwined and I felt him lean closer to me; his shoulder touched mine.

But just as suddenly he pulled his hand away and he covered his face as he started to cry.

"Shhh. It's okay," I said to him softly.

"She wouldn't have wanted me to be gay," He sobbed pathetically. "I don't want to be gay."

I swallowed audibly at the implication that he was and was starting to realize it. "She loved you. She would have loved you no matter what," I tried.

He covered his mouth with his hand, hiding his trembling lower lip. "I don't want to disappoint her," He eventually muttered. "She doesn't deserve that."

His heartbroken remark quelled my short-lived hope and joy. I wished I could offer him some comfort, but my words would be empty. I didn't know her, after all, I couldn't convincingly claim that she would have been okay with it.

He glanced up at me but his expression only became more tormented.

I hated seeing him like that. My heart clenched painfully. I wanted to hug him and kiss him but that would likely only upset him further.

He pivoted on his heels and walked away. I went after him and fell into step behind him quietly as we made our way back to the house.

We changed back into our casual clothes and packed our bags.

For five full minutes his mother stood at the bottom of the staircase, yelling at him at the top of her lungs. Heero didn't respond in any way, shape or form, stuffing more clothes into his bag than he had brought with him for the trip.

"What was she saying?" I asked once she had finally quieted down.

"She wanted us to come down for tea."

"Shouldn't we-"

"Are you done?" He nodded at my duffel bag.

"Yeah."

He zipped his closed. "Then let's go."

I didn't mention that we needn't be back at the train station for another two hours, I was pretty sure he was well aware of that fact. I followed him down the stairs and we stepped into our shoes.

Rei came into the hallway but even as she was talking to her son, he kept her back towards her and focused on tying his shoelaces.

I stood beside him tensely, not knowing what to do, or if I should even do anything.

Heero held the door open for me and gestured for me to go outside, so I did, ducking my head between my shoulders as Rei started to shout in a high-pitched voice. One word she kept repeating: "Okama!"

I looked at Heero with a frown and he just bowed his head and closed the door behind us. I could still hear her screaming that word as we walked through the yard and onto the street. I could have sworn I heard her all the way to the train station. The word kept ringing in my head, in spite of the fact that I had no idea what it meant. She said it with such hatred and disgust.

We arrived at the empty train station early and took a seat while we waited. I wanted to say something, but I was at a loss. My instinct was to fill the silence with a meaningless ramble, but I felt it would not be right. Instead I focused on the surroundings. With the train station being higher up on the slope on which the town was located, we had a view of the narrow streets, the sea and a strip of pine forest separating the two. In the distance I saw the IKEA sign towering over everything. I tried to imagine what growing up in that little town had been like for Heero. I smiled as I imagined him running through the streets and playing with friends in the forest, even though I knew that to not be the truth of his upbringing. He had never had many friends and between his mother wanting him to do chores around the house and his grandmother wanting him to read and study – always knowing that a good education would get him out of this life – he told me he didn't have much spare time. He also told me that he never minded.

My eyes narrowed at a dark grey bank of rainclouds sweeping in from the North, dragging along the coastline, casting shadows on the water.

The train arrived and took us back to the airport. I yawned several times; the lack of sleep was finally starting to take its toll. My eyes were burning.

At the airport I headed for the revolving doors, but Heero lingered outside, even as the rainclouds were starting to catch up with us and a heavy downpour threatened. I waited for him as he seemed to stare far away. "Are you okay?"

"Yeah," He called over his shoulder. "I'm just- I'm never coming back here."

His remark should have made me happy, but it didn't. I was relieved that he wouldn't be leaving in less than two months, but I mostly felt sorry for him, because there was nothing left for him here. In a way I was getting what I wanted, but this wasn't how I had wanted it to go.

He turned and walked past me, heading into the building.

We were up in the air only shortly before touching down in Tokyo for our lay-over and from there the long flight across the Pacific departed. I didn't mean to, but I fell asleep and Heero woke me up hours later with a nudge in my side and nodding at the 'Fasten Seatbelt' sign that had lit up as the plane made its approach.

When we arrived back home it was Thursday evening, again, but for us it felt like Friday late afternoon. I was dragging my feet as I made my way up the stairs and Heero wasn't exactly rushing behind me. While I fumbled to find the keys to our dorm room in one of the many little pockets on my duffel bag, Nash popped his head out his room and said:

"Some guy came looking for you."

"Some guy? That's not very specific," I deadpanned.

"Shut up, Maxwell, I wasn't even talking to you." He nodded at Heero.

My friend looked as perplexed as one could look after the long trip we had had. "Me?"

"Yeah, genius-boy. Some other oriental dude came by. Black hair in a ponytail."

WuFei? I thought, puzzled.

Nash continued: "I asked him if I could relay a message but he politely declined." After a pause he added dryly: "That's sarcasm by the way, he was very rude."

"Thanks, Nash," Said Heero.

We were about to step into our room and I was quite eager to ask Heero why WuFei would show up out of the blue, when Nash called his name. We both turned around.

He scrunched up his nose awkwardly. "I'm sorry about- I'm sorry about your grandma, Yuy. Seriously." He appeared genuine.

Heero only nodded in response and then slipped passed me into the room.

"Thanks, Nash, He appreciates it."

"Yeah." He disappeared back inside his room.

"See? He's not so bad," I concluded, closing the door. I put my bag down on the floor next to Heero's. "So? WuFei came looking for you?"

He was sitting on a desk chair, untying his shoes and answered dutifully: "We've kept in touch. We email back and forth every now and then. I told him about my grandmother, he probably came by to offer proper condolences."

I frowned. I knew Heero and WuFei had been starting to get along better right before things exploded between me and the Chinese man, but I would have never suspected their friendship to be strong enough that they would still be in contact after a year since I last saw WuFei. I always thought that – paradoxically – they were too similar to be really close friends. They were both too quiet, too stubborn and too serious. Or so I had thought. Deciding to be direct, I asked: "Why did you stay in touch with him?"

He straightened up and looked at me. "To keep track of him."

"Why?"

"For when you were ready to be friends with him again," He explained.

"If," I corrected.

"What?"

"If. Not when."

A small smirk appeared. "When." He paused before continuing with a slight, confused frown: "I never understood why you didn't call him the second Hilde revealed that she had been deceiving you and that he had been right to call her out." As he talked he started to strip out of his clothes.

I followed his lead, getting rid of the layers of clothing that stuck to my body. "Ego, mostly." There was no reason to be anything but sincere. "I was so embarrassed, I felt like such a fool. I didn't need him to throw an 'I told you so' in my face. And I guess I stayed afraid of that 'I told you so'. Even to this day."

Dressed in a fresh pair of underwear and a clean shirt he asserted: "He wouldn't have said that. He still wouldn't."

I shrugged. He was probably right, but the thought of facing my once best friend was still daunting. I had been such an ass, when he had only been looking out for my best interests.

"I'm tired, I'm going to sleep."

"Sure, me too." I was still working on putting on a pair of sweat pants.

Heero crawled into bed, turning his back to me.

I finished getting changed, closed the curtains, locked the door and switched off the light. I blindly groped my way around the foot-end of the bed until I found the ladder. I was about to climb up to the top bunk when I heard him say my name softly. I stilled and waited for my eyes to adjust to the low lighting. When shapes finally started to appear, I saw Heero was lying on his side, facing the wall, leaving over half of the mattress free. I realized with a skipping heartbeat that I was being invited. I let go of the ladder and got into bed with him. My body fit perfectly against his. I lay my hand on his hip and kissed the back of his neck. "Goodnight, baby," I whispered boldly with a grin.

"Goodnight."


	21. Chapter 21

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Normally I reserve my account on this website to literally archive my completed works; ONLY my completed works. I've made an exception this time because I wanted to get the chore of uploading most of the chapters out of the way. This story is one chapter removed from being completed. You can expect this chapter to be uploaded on fanfiction.net in about a week (hopefully less) and shortly after it will be posted here as well.

**Thousand Words**

**_Twenty-one_ **

It was the end of the Saturday morning and I was still lying in bed. Heero's bed. Alone. He had left early in the morning, his book-bag slung over his shoulder. The swim team was competing that morning, but it didn't look like he was going. If he didn't participate he wouldn't place for nationals. I tried to gently encourage him to swim anyway, even though he was clearly exhausted, but he brushed me off and headed out the door, leaving his swim gear behind.

I spent the morning lying in bed and leafing through the pages of my sketchbook, but I lacked the energy to do anything. In spite of me skipping classes yesterday, I hadn't been able to catch up on my sleep. Being invited into bed with Heero was a victory, but I hadn't slept any better. I felt guilty for being happy now that I knew he wouldn't be leaving, it made me feel selfish, even though his reasons for staying had nothing to do with me, a fact that also made me sad. It was completely confusing. On top of that, I couldn't run or hide from my feelings anymore and neither could, nor should, Heero. If he was staying in the States, I had to tell him how I felt about him. I had to be honest. That was a daunting prospect because in spite of the seeming progress we had made in coming together on an emotional level, I still had no idea how he would respond to that four-letter-word, coming from me.

I was startled when the door to the room was ripped open unannounced and I scrambled to shut the sketchbook.

A furious Trowa stepped into the room, spotting only me, lying in bed shell-shocked, he demands to know: "Where is Heero?"

"Uh…" I flung my legs over the edge of the bed and sat upright, looking at him sheepishly. "The library?"

He muttered something under his breath and then prepared to walk away.

I got up on my feet and called after him: "Wait! What happened?"

He stomped back inside and put his hands on his hips. "What happened is that I sucked today," He seethed. "I was so worried about Heero I couldn't focus! I hadn't heard from him since before he went to Japan and when he didn't show up I thought something had happened or… whatever. I totally fucked up." He chewed on the inside of his cheek.

"Where's Quatre?" I asked, wondering why his boyfriend hadn't been able to calm him down before he came charging here.

"In Venice," He said dismissively. "One of his sisters is getting married. Don't ask me which one."

"Oh." I felt bad for Trowa, he was clearly upset about his match and about Quatre not being here.

"I'm going to talk to Heero," He announced.

"Please… Don't yell at him."

"I won't." He looked apologetic regarding his earlier outburst. "How's the little asshole doing anyway?"

I shrugged. "He didn't compete today, so… you tell me."

"Right. Shit." He rubbed the back of his neck. "I can't believe he would forfeit. Now he didn't qualify for Nationals."

"What about you?" I asked tentatively.

"I qualified, just barely. My time was just fast enough, I came in second. I don't like coming in second behind anyone but Heero."

We shared a smile at the friendly competitiveness between the two of them.

"How was Japan?"

Deciding to be honest I replied: "Weird." That was the limit of my eloquence.

"What was his mother like?"

"Misses Yuy is a lovely lady," I deadpanned.

"Haha, right."

"When we left she called him an 'Okama'. Heero wouldn't tell me what it means, so I googled it. It means 'fag'. She called him a fag."

"Classy." He paused momentarily before adding: "Look, Duo, I'm not sure if I'm right about Heero – whether he is, or isn't. Like I said before, I don't think Gaydar is really a thing. But I just felt like I should warn you that I don't think he is. He never looks at any guy twice."

"He looks at me twice," I retorted, a hint of vain pride in my voice.

He smiled. "I guess we'll see. I'm going to go talk to him. Library, right?"

"Always the library."

He waved goodbye and then walked out of the room, closing the door behind him softly to compensate for him barging in so loudly before.

I heaved a deep sigh and sat back down on the bed, taking the sketchbook in my lap again. Trowa might not yet believe it, but Heero was gay. I was certain. The problem was that he didn't want to be gay, so that didn't exactly leave us in the most ideal situation. At least I would have plenty of time to figure it out, since he was staying. I just had to figure out what to do with the summer program at the art institute. It seemed like an obvious idea to invite Heero to come with me, but that was easier said than done. I would be living on-campus, probably sharing my room with some other guy. Everything was paid for, but I had absolutely no money to spare after that round-trip to Japan. I wondered what Heero's plans were, I doubted he even entertained the idea of moving in with his father, but what other option did he have?

I had hoped life would be so much simpler if I didn't have to worry about him leaving the country, but matters had only gotten more complicated, even without the potentially-unrequited-love thrown into the mix. Yes, Heero was gay, but did he love me the same way I loved him? It was tempting to think so, but I shouldn't get my hopes up. With us being best friends on top of us being lovers, it was difficult to distinguish an act of love from an act of friendship or mere sexual intimacy.

A sharp knock on the door pulled me from my distressful musings. I rolled my eyes. "For God's sake, Trowa, there is no point in bothering with the formality of knocking now!" I laughed and looked over, expecting the door to swing open, but it didn't. "Trowa, you can come in!" Nothing. I thought I heard footsteps, but they were moving away. I got up and pulled the door open, peering into the hallway with curious eyes. The only person in the hallway was a young man standing at the top of the staircase, his back turned towards me as he had intended to go down the steps.

I stared at the low, black ponytail. "WuFei?"

He turned around apprehensively and stared back at me with unreadable, black eyes. "Maxwell."

"Were you just going to leave?"

"I didn't come to see you. I only meant to give Heero my condolences. I hadn't yet had the chance to do so formally. It is not right to do something like that in an email."

All about right and wrong, that was WuFei, precisely the way I remembered him.

"He sent me an email letting me known he would be home today. I guess not."

"He's at the library," I informed him dumbly.

"He said he'd be home," WuFei reiterated.

Little minx, I thought to myself. It appeared Heero had engineered this awkward meeting.

We were both silent for a long time. I felt the need to apologize, but the words didn't come to me.

"How have you been?" He asked. With his hands in his pockets he took a step closer; literally and figuratively taking the first step.

"Okay. More or less. Ups and downs." My answer was cryptic, although not intentionally so. After a pause I thought to ask: "You?"

"Good. I got into the residency program at Johns Hopkins."

"Wow. That's… that's amazing. Congratulations."

He nodded and took another step. "You too." At seeing my frown he explained with a shrug: "Heero wrote you got into that art program."

"Yeah."

"So you finally applied, huh, you chickenshit?"

I was taken aback by his remark, mistaking it for a biting insult at first, but then I noticed the harmless smile that tugged at the corners of his lips and I realized he was trying to engage me in friendly banter. I chuckled heartedly. "I deserved that one." I looked down at my shoes and muttered: "I deserve a lot more than that."

"Really? What did you have in mind?"

"Asshole. Dick. Idiot. Asshole, again."

"Throw in another 'asshole' and you're close."

"How about if this asshole apologized?"

He snorted. "Give it a try and we'll see."

I swallowed audibly, preparing myself. I wanted him to know I was being sincere and not just playing along, so I took my time. I said to him poignantly: "I'm sorry. I'm sorry about going off on you the way I did. I'm sorry about not trusting you. I'm sorry about punching you. Mostly I'm sorry about not making things right again between us."

"I'm sorry too-"

"Don't."

He held up his hand. "No, no, let me. I should have been more sensitive. It was a very difficult truth for you to hear and I should have been more understanding. I shouldn't have pressed it. I think… I think I actually even kind of liked rubbing it in your face because I was so angry with you for throwing away your future, regardless of whether or not it was the right thing to do. And I should have called, the next day or the next week."

"But I was still an asshole."

"Oh, definitely," He agreed with a grin.

I chuckled. I tried to inconspicuously wipe my palm on my pants to get rid of the warm wetness of my nervous sweat from earlier and then I held my hand out to him.

Without hesitation he took my hand in his and we shook hands almost formally. It was an uneasy exchange, after not having seen each other for so long. We couldn't jump right back into being buddies, but as our fingers unclasped, I felt like we could be good friends once more if we just got over ourselves.

"Would you like to go grab some coffee?"

He made a face. "Actually, I really just need to pay my respects to Heero and then head on out. Sally is waiting for me in the car. We're on our way to her mom's place, to meet her new boyfriend."

"Well, let's not wait another year, then."

He nodded in agreement. "So… Heero?"

"Library."

"Right, I knew that." He rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly and he started backing away. "I'll call."

"Yes." I hoped he would. I raised my hand in a halfhearted goodbye and watched him head down the stairs. I went back into my room, closed the door and said to myself: "That was fucking weird." I had no doubt Heero had orchestrated the run-in, but I wondered why now. Perhaps he just figured it was the perfect opportunity, given that WuFei insisted on coming by in person anyway to give his condolences and he was not one to waste a perfect opportunity.

When Heero came back to the dorm room late in the afternoon, I told him about WuFei stopping by and that we talked. He replied innocently: "Yes, so he told me." And that was it. I tried to study his features, but his face was expressionless as he delved into a textbook that he had apparently neglected to bring with him to the library. He was nose-deep in the book until it was time for dinner. I cooked macaroni and cheese for the both of us – my friend made a face at every bite – and we shared the left-overs with Norwood who wandered into the kitchen as we were already doing the dishes, perhaps he was seeking out the company, he wasn't picky in that regard.

We went to bed early. I climbed in first and then Heero settled behind me. I could feel his warm breath spreading over my bare back and his mere closeness gave me a sense of comfort and contentment that I once feared I could never achieve. His arm snaked around my torso and I grabbed his hand and held it to my chest, surely he could feel my heart beating passionately.

Two full-grown men sharing a single twin bed wasn't ideal, but I didn't mind. I didn't want to go back to sleeping in separate beds, I didn't want to make a step backwards again. I was focused on only moving forwards from then on. I wasn't going to grab him by his forearm and force him to make leaps and bounds, I knew I had to be gentle and that the progress could not be rushed. We – as an actual, romantic couple – finally stood a chance and I had to nurture that and was more than happy to do so and make some sacrifices in the process. I just needed to have his back every step of the way, so he couldn't revert back out of fear, shame, or guilt.

"I want to come with you tonight," I said abruptly after we had finished our Sunday lunch in silence.

He looked up from his books with a frown and chewed the last mouthful of his sandwich before challenging: "Why?"

"Because your father is a dick and given the week you've had, you could use some moral support."

He wiped his mouth with a paper napkin. "I'll be alright."

"Wouldn't you rather have me there? As a distraction? A deflector? Your wingman?"

"Honestly I don't see why both our evenings should be ruined."

"I'm not going to have any fun with you gone for the night anyway." My statement was bold and perhaps too bold. I felt my cheeks go a little red, being on the receiving end of his suspicious glare. "Come on! Why not?" I insisted with a smile.

"Because!"

"Ohh, 'because'. That explains everything. Now I feel stupid for asking."

He rolled his eyes at my sarcasm.

"Just tell me why you wouldn't rather have me there with you."

"Because we had oral sex on the chess table!" He blurted.

I grinned at the prompted memory. "Yes. That we did."

"See! Look at that smug smirk! That is exactly why you can't come with me. You're going to be thinking about it and you're going to have this look on your face."

"I wasn't thinking about it!" I argued with a chuckle. "Not until you mentioned it."

"But you were going to think about it as soon as you would have laid eyes on the chess table!"

I scoffed. "What makes you come to that conclusion?" I raised an eyebrow and leaned in closer. "Perhaps because you can't help but think about it whenever you see it?" I teased.

He made a face and redirected his gaze to his study book. "Fuck you," He muttered pathetically.

I dragged my chair closer to his and planted an unexpected kiss on his cheek. He turned his head to face me, a calm but curious expression on his features. His lips were begging to be kissed and I happily obliged. The kiss was nothing more than an urgent, lingering peck on his mouth until he responded and challenged me into something more passionate. My hand was on his thigh and his hand had my braid wrapped around it. When we parted for a quick breath, he said: "My dad can't know."

I wondered if he was talking about the sex and the kissing needing to be kept a secret or if he was referring to a bigger picture that involved genuine attraction and love. And the second question on my mind was whether he didn't want him to know only because his father paid for all of his expenses, or if he would never want him to know in some strange attempt to get the approval of a man he despised. But I knew better than to spoil the moment by asking him the extent of the secret he needed me to keep and simply continued kissing him.

For the rest of the afternoon I let him study in peace and I sat on the opposite end of the table in the quiet study room finishing one of my own projects, occasionally taking a break by sketching his eyes underneath the footnotes of the copy of the literature list for my last semester. I shook my head at how hopelessly in love I was. In the past I would have judged girls for being equally obsessed with me.

We went back to our room for a quick change of clothes, making ourselves a little bit more presentable for Sunday dinner. Heero made a begrudging call to his father to confer if it was alright if I tagged along and according to him his father had been enthusiastic to receive another guest. As Heero has said in the past, his father always loved an opportunity to impress people. He just wanted someone to sit across from him at the dinner table and go "oh…" and "ah…" in response to his – in his mind epic- tales.

"You could have gone out for pizza with the guys and play videogames at Obie's," Heero reminded me stoically in the cab, on our way to his father's house.

"I know. Don't worry about it. I'll find a way to entertain myself," I winked at him.

My friend was hardly amused. "I'm serious, Duo. My father might not be the most observant, nor intelligent, but if you're not careful even he will be able to tell."

"I told you not to worry," I assured him gently.

He pursed his lips.

"Are you stressed out because your mom also figured it out?" I knew it was a sensitive topic, but I had to gauge the depths of his concerns in some way, how else could I comfort and support him? Glancing briefly at the taxi driver I admitted: "I looked up what 'Okama' means."

He glared at me, clearly angry at me for bringing it up. "Although it is irrelevant what she thinks is going on; yes, if she has told him her suspicions, we have to be extra careful."

"Are they still on speaking terms?"

"No." He added in a whisper, eyeing the cabbie: "But ruining my life might be worth the long distance phone call."

I nodded, even though I didn't think she would do that. I didn't think she would reach out to the man who broke her heart so many years ago and in spite of her ill feelings towards Heero, I also didn't believe she was out to ruin his life, he was still her own son, after all.

At the front door of the small house we were amicably welcomed by Odin. He gave me a big, tight hug that caught me by surprise. Heero expertly evaded an embrace by stiffly reaching out his hand, so they ended up shaking hands and Odin patted him on the shoulder. We were directed to the couch and were offered a beer. I accepted, Heero asked for a glass of water.

"Would you like a glass with that, Duo?" He asked as he handed me the bottle of European beer.

"No, thank you, sir. This is perfectly fine." I took a demonstrative swig.

Heero made a face as he was handed a beer as well in spite of his request. He pouted at it for a moment before taking a reluctant sip.

"It's so good to see you again, Duo!" Odin said, sitting down on the couch across from us.

When I looked past him I could see the chess table in the bay window. A smirk started to form and I could feel Heero glaring at me. "It's good to see you too, sir."

"Please, stop with the 'sir'! I'm not just 'some dad', I'm one of the guys, right, Heero?"

Heero quietly took another drink.

"How is school going, Duo? Heero told me you are close to completing your final projects?"

"Yeah," I replied awkwardly, acutely aware that he hadn't even had the decency to ask Heero about the funeral yet, while that should be the first thing a father should think to ask. "Of course, school wasn't the most important thing on our minds this past week."

It seemed to take him a moment and then he looked at Heero. "Right! How did it go?"

How did it go? I thought to myself, biting the inside of my cheek to stop myself from sneering at him.

"Fine."

"How is your mother handling it?" He asked routinely.

Heero shrugged. "Alright, I guess."

"It's not distracting you from your schoolwork, is it?"

"No," He replied through gritted teeth.

"No way," I chimed in, "He's working really hard. He's still set to graduate at the top of his class."

"Good! I would expect no less from a son of mine," Odin boasted, as if he ever achieved anything academic in his life. "In a way you must be relieved," He started after a thoughtful sip from his beer. "The financial responsibilities of taking care of your grandmother would have been a huge strain on a young man starting his career."

I could literally feel him seething beside me – rightfully so. He was too angry to respond, so I said: "I'm sure it didn't so much feel as a strain to Heero as it did a privilege; to get a chance to take care of his grandmother the way she had always taken care of him."

He smiled and brushed off the entire issue by remarking patronizingly: "She was a nice lady."

I put the bottle to my lips and chugged down half of the contents, trying to soothe the uneasiness.

"What are your plans after graduation?" Odin asked his son.

I readjusted in my seat, looking at Heero to my right. I was certainly interested in the answer to that question.

"I'm not sure yet." Heero was trying to evade the subject.

"That doesn't sound like you at all," Odin called him out, making a displeased face. "Now, you are welcome to come live here, with me, but I won't tolerate that kind of attitude. You need to have a plan."

Heero visibly stiffened at the offer to come live with him. Obviously that was never going to happen, but I was curious, what option did he have?

"What about you, Duo?"

"I- Uhh…" I frowned at Heero, the level of his discomfort made me think he was hiding something. I shook my head and faced Odin. "I was accepted into a summer program at the Columbus College of Art and Design."

"That sounds very impressive. I remember Heero telling me you had always wanted to go to art school."

I nodded. "Yeah. Obviously a summer program is not the same but…" I shrugged. "It's the closest thing and it is a great opportunity."

"Very true, that is a great attitude." He looked down at his wristwatch and sheepishly announced he should start work on dinner. He offered us another drink and when we both declined he washed his hands and turned his back to us to stand at the counter to cut up vegetables.

I leaned in closely and softly lay my hand over Heero's, wondering in a whisper: "What's wrong?"

He yanked his hand away from me and pointedly looked over his shoulder at his father, even though the man still had his back towards us and he could only see our heads and shoulders above the back of the couch anyway.

"Heero, you should teach Duo to play chess, dinner is going to be a while."

Before he could respond I interjected: "I would love to learn to play chess!"

Heero rolled his eyes at me but we both got up and relocated to the chess table at the far end of the living room by the bay window. The pieces were already in starting position on the board. I could still remember sweeping them off the table with a single move of my arm and placing Heero on top of the surface to proceed to suck his dick right there. I could tell my lover was thinking about it as well. His movements were stiff as he pointed at all the chess pieces, explaining their names, ranks and functions. I wasn't really paying attention, losing myself to obscene memories. The absurd look on Heero's face confirmed that he could clearly glean from my expression what I was thinking. I casually shifted my foot under the table until our legs were touching but he quickly moved in his seat to avoid the contact. I knew I had to stop pushing it, so I did and I tried to make sense of the complicated game. Heero was merciless on the trial runs, beating me within a couple of moves. We reset the board four times before we were called to the kitchen for dinner.

Odin happily boasted about his own 'successful' life, inflating every aspect to make it seem that much more impressive. Heero wordlessly consumed his dinner. I made an effort to please Odin by appearing interested in his self-serving monologue and the man was getting drunk on my attention. By the time he served dessert he was too caught up in his own story - making big gestures with his arms and imitating the voices of other characters in his tale – to eat anything, so his ice-cream and chocolate sauce melted into a bowl of chocolate milk.

After dinner he pulled a half empty bottle of Johnny Walker from a kitchen cabinet and offered us a stronger drink. With some effort we were able to convince him that we had to head back to campus. He consented but didn't show us to the door before he had poured himself a generous glass and had taken a big swig of the alcoholic liquid. I was fairly certain the man wasn't a pleasant drunk to be around, so I was relieved we were allowed to leave.

We walked down the street to the bus stop at the corner where we asked the taxi service to come pick us up, seeing as there were no bus lines leading back to campus directly. Once we were out of sight from the house Heero pushed me, nearly causing me to stumble and fall over a low picket fence. I laughed, because I thought he was playing with me, but I fell silent when I noticed the stormy expression in his eyes. "What?" I asked when it became evident he wasn't going to explain himself on his own volition.

He scoffed. "I told you to be careful!"

"I was!" I defended. "He saw nothing! Nothing happened!"

"You were practically drooling, looking at the chess table! Holding my hand and then later trying to play footsie under the table!"

"Oh come on! You asked me to be careful, not to get paranoid, like you are!"

He widened his eyes at me. "Paranoid?" He challenged. "If I am paranoid, than I should be, considering what is at stake."

"What is at stake?"

"My life!" He clarified: "My education."

Halting at the corner of the street I put my hands on my hips. "You really think he is not going to make the final tuition payments if he knew-" I stopped myself. If he knew what? That Heero was gay? Heero himself had yet to come to terms with it and still seemed on the cusp of denying everything. I knew I shouldn't upset him any further by using words he might not be ready to hear yet, in spite of his heartfelt admission at his grandmother's grave.

"As if you're not worried about the exact same thing with your parents. Why else haven't you told them?"

"I'm not having dinner with them every Goddamn week." I shot back. "If they were a part of my weekly life, I'm sure I would have told them by them now, regardless of the consequences, because I wouldn't know how to keep that in. If that was my house, if that was my dad we were having dinner with, the secret would be out! It would have just burst out of me! Even if it means I couldn't graduate, I sure would love to see the look his face when I tell him-" I paused, but then boldly concluded: "That I'm gay."

He stilled momentarily and fleetingly his expression was one of fear before he hardened his features. "You think so fucking lightly of everything…" He shook his head. "You would throw away four years of your past, not to mention your entire future, solely for the satisfaction of pissing off your dad?"

"No. Not just to piss him off. To be myself. To be free and to be honest, to myself mostly. Pissing him off would be a nice bonus. My silence and obedience can't be bought with tuition payments. I have to be true to myself. I lucked out that I don't have to talk with them on any kind of regular basis, that is true, and I am abusing that distance for my own benefit. But my feelings are the same, if the roles were reversed and I had to look my father in the eye this evening, I would have told him."

"So you're all about honesty?" He confronted. "If that's the case, why haven't you told your friends? Why haven't you told Obie?"

"For you!" Was my instant reply. "Because I promised you I would never tell anyone about us and I knew that even just me coming out, within saying anything about you, would… 'implicate' you and that you would hate me for it. I do want other people to know! I want to be able to kiss you openly and tell Relena to fuck the Hell off because you're mine."

He stared at me. "You scare me sometimes."

"Scare you? Why?"

"Don't you see how bad things would get? How people would judge us?"

"Our friends wouldn't judge us…"

He looked unconvinced.

I sighed. I hadn't wanted this evening to end in a fight between the two of us. I had wanted to be there to support him and get him through another horrible dinner with his dick of a dad. Hoping to appease him, I offered my apology for not being as careful as he had wanted me to be and I promised him that I would be as careful as he needed me to be from that moment on. I could feel a distance between us that I wanted to amend as quickly as possible.

The taxi arrived and Heero got in quietly and I followed.

Even by the time we arrived at our dorm building the atmosphere hadn't improved. Once we were inside the privacy of our room I grabbed his hand and tried: "Baby…"

"I don't want anybody to know," He reiterated, expecting me to backtrack on my promise. "I don't want my dad to stop paying for school and I don't want anybody distracting me from my schoolwork."

"I know. I'm not going to let that happen."

"I have to do this, for her," He looked up at me meaningfully.

"I know."

"All she ever wanted was for me to have a good life; to have a good education and a good job. I can't let anything stand in the way of that."

"I think what she meant was that she wanted you to be happy," I countered, but at his narrowed eyes I swallowed my comment and apologized. "You'll get your degrees and you'll get a good job. Don't worry."

He nodded and started to bite his lip.

I reeled back. I was right before, he was hiding something from me, it was written all over his face. "That's the same look you sported when your dad asked you about your plans after graduation…" I pointed out. I felt my heartbeat quickening and my stomach turning into a knot. I had a bad feeling.

"Professor Kovalyov offered me a job last Friday," He blurted, looking very guilty.

"That's… great…" My enthusiasm was mild as my stomach was only twisting up further.

"It's in Seattle."

"Oh."

"After this academic year he is starting as the head of the avionics department at a company in Seattle and he is allowed to put together his own team. When I told him why I missed last class, it came up that I wasn't going back to Japan and he said that he would like me to come with him and be part of that team. I'm sure he offered purely out of pity, but considering the circumstances I thought…"

I swallowed the lump in my throat. "Why didn't you tell me?"

"I still have to think about it."

I called him out: "It doesn't sound like you still have to think about it." I knew instantly why he had hastily engineered the run-in with WuFei that Saturday. He had known immediately that he was going to leave, as soon as the professor had made the offer – it would be unwise to turn down a job offer in the current economy -, and he had been looking for a replacement to fill the void that he intended to leave.

"What else am I supposed to do, Duo? Live with my dad?"

"Well, what I am supposed to do?"

He frowned, confused my question.

How could he possibly think this wouldn't affect me? "About the summer program!"

"This wouldn't change anything about that."

"So after graduation I'm going to Columbus and you're going to Seattle?"

"Yes, why not?" He demanded.

"Why not…" I breathed, shaking my head at him.

"Tell me!" He grabbed my wrist and forced me to turn back around to face him. Looking into my eyes he challenged: "Why should you give up Columbus? Or why should I give up Seattle? Tell me why? Give me a reason."

I shrugged and spat: "Nothing." I pushed past him to get clothes from the closet and changed into my nightwear. Even though it was still relatively early in the evening, I was exhausted. I didn't get into the lower bunk like I had the previous nights. Without a word I climbed up to the top bunk, pulled the sheets over my body and turned to face the wall. Heero had yet to move. Finally I heard him get changed as well, but in the low lighting of the single light on the desk he worked a few more hours before the room went dark around midnight and he crawled into his own bed.

He shouldn't have let me believe that he would be staying – Seattle was not as far as Japan, but it was still far away. He should have told me, rather than letting me believe I had all the time in the world to make things work between us. Didn't he care enough to tell me, to give me fair warning? Did he really believe this decision wouldn't affect me; wouldn't hurt me?

He would gladly take this opportunity to run away. But was he running away from me, or running away from the scary possibility that he was gay and that there was nothing he could do to change that?

I didn't understand. I thought things were getting better. Had it all been an illusion? I felt foolish for having allowed myself to dream. I supposed I had my answer: he didn't feel the same way about me, why else would he need me to provide us with a reason to stay together? If he couldn't figure that out by himself…

The following day was awkward. Heero tried to act normal and I supposed he could because for him nothing had changed, he had always known it was inevitable that he would leave, he just neglected to inform me of that. I felt broken, even more so than before, because there had been hope.

I really thought I had found it, the love that would complete me, but all unrequited love could ever do was break someone.

When he came back from his morning run and got dressed for class, he asked, rather casually: "Are you coming to the library for lunch?"

I didn't have a workshop until later in the afternoon, so I muttered my reply, my back still turned towards him: "I think I'm going to sleep in."

"Past noon?"

"Yes, Heero, past noon," I bit.

He was silent for a while and then replied meekly: "Okay."

I didn't see him at all for the remainder of that day. I went to class and then met up with the guys at the basketball court and joined them for pizza afterward. I knew I wouldn't stay mad at Heero for long. Even though he hurt me, he wasn't entirely responsible, not this time. He was dealing with the aftermath of losing his grandmother and the pressure of honoring her wishes and moreover, it wasn't his fault that I had fallen madly in love with him, so he wasn't accountable. He hadn't broken the rules, this time, I was the one who had broken the rules of our arrangement; it was only ever supposed to be about the sex.

He was too important to me to just let him slip away. I would find a way to make things right, I would meet him halfway when the heart would stop bleeding.

It was past midnight when I arrived back at our dorm room and Heero was already asleep. I snuck inside and crawled into bed still wearing my clothes. A little drunk from all the beers I had downed I fell asleep quickly. I was blissfully unaware that when I would wake up the next morning, things would get really bad.


	22. 22

**Thousand Words**

_**Twenty-two** _

"You asshole! You fucking asshole!"

I had heard Heero storm into the room at an ungodly hour in the early morning but I hadn't reached full consciousness until he started shouting at me and grabbing the frame of the bed and shaking it like a wild animal rattling its cage. With a sudden, deep breath I flung myself upright, with a raised hand I protected my squinting eyes from the direct light of the lamp on the ceiling.

"What have you done? What have you done?!"

I rubbed my eyes and then my temples with both hands. The deep frown on my forehead caused an instant, throbbing headache. "Wha- What? What's going on?"

"Fuck you, Duo!" He got up on the lower bunk and punched me in my side.

Tiredly I fought him off and scooted closer to the wall to make it harder for his fists to reach me at full force. "I don't know what the fuck you are going on about!" I shouted. The haze of sleep lifted and I recognized his extreme measure of distress.

There was a dull bang on the wall and then our sleepy next-door neighbor barked: "Shut up!"

"What time is it?" I asked my enraged roommate. I noticed he was in his running gear, but he wasn't sweating, although his face was flustered.

"Six," He seethed.

"Six AM?" I dropped down onto my pillow. "Jesus fuck, Heero, I need my beauty sleep."

"I'm sure you do. You must have had a really busy night."

I turned to look at him, my frown only deepening. "What?"

With a single hand he grabbed the sheets and yanked them off my bed. "You're still wearing your clothes… Your shoes even!" His tone was accusing but I had yet to figure out what he thought I was guilty of, other than soiling my sheets by wearing my shoes to bed.

"Can you please use your inside-voice and tell me what is going on?" I tried to calm myself, hoping that that would have a positive effect on his demeanor as well.

With a growl he slammed a crumpled up piece of paper onto the mattress, next to my head. "What am I supposed to think of this?"

I sat up again and unfolded the piece of paper. The side facing me was blank, so I turned it over and my heart sank and my throat constricted.

Printed on the piece of paper was a single, full-size screenshot from the video I had taken of us the last time we had engaged in sex. Fortunately, the image the prankster had chosen was one where neither of us were recognizable; it was the close-up of Heero's behind and my dick ramming into it, but no one could know that. I was sympathetic to his rage, but one thing I didn't understand. "Are you accusing me of printing this out?"

"It's from the video you took! The video you promised to delete, but you didn't! It was on your phone and now it's all over the place!"

My eyes widened a the news. "Heero, I would never do that!"

"Is this about last Sunday?" He asked, hurt and upset.

"It's not! It's not about anything! I didn't do this, you have to know that." I stared at the image and then realization hit me. "Nash… Nash!"

Heero's eyebrow twitched.

"This has his name written all over it. This is just like the last time…" With my eyes I begged him. "You have to believe me, I wouldn't do this."

He seemed to trust me, but the softening of his features was only momentarily. "It is still your fault! You promised you would delete that video. I told you it was only a matter of time!"

I jumped out of bed. "I'm sorry… I'm sorry…" I kept repeating. I searched my memory, trying to remember when and where I might have left my phone unattended and accessible to Nash. I couldn't think of anything, so maybe he had snuck into our room again, although we had been taking care to lock the door behind us at all times. "Look, it's going to be alright… Nobody is going to know it's us-"

"Not yet," He interjected. "Clearly this is just a warming-up. The person who posted this has the entire video, Duo. Obviously he's not going to leave it at this."

"This is one of Nash' pranks. I'll go deal with it. I'll make it right."

"You better. If he posts any more, the entire faculty is going to get involved, which means our parents will get a call as well."

"I'll fix it. I promise."

He glared at me. "I wish I could trust your promises." He pushed past me and hurried out the door.

With the print-out in my hand I stomped over to Nash' room across the hallway and started banging on the door, bellowing out his name with determination.

After some delay the door was ripped open and his roommate poked his head out. "God, Maxwell, what do you want?"

"I need to see Nash. Right now," I emphasized. I was ready to force myself inside to confront the little weasel.

"He's not even here…" He groaned.

"Sure he isn't," I deadpanned.

"I'm serious man. He went home with some girl last night, must've slept over."

"Do you mind if I check?" Although I phrased it as a question, I was certain he understood the implication that I wasn't going to take no for an answer.

"Are you accusing me of lying?"

"Yes."

He grunted and stepped aside. "Go ahead."

I stepped into the dark room and studied the top bunk; it was empty. Nash was nowhere to be seen in the small room. Still, I had to be sure, so I opened the closet doors but I didn't find him there.

"Seriously?" The roommate protested as he watched me inspect the closet.

"What's the girl's name?"

"What?"

"The girl's name? The one he went home with?"

He shrugged. "Fuck if I know. I bet Nash doesn't even know."

I had to find him and I had to find him soon, before he would proceed with the second act of his little show. I didn't know Nash well enough to be familiar with his class schedule, but he was on the basketball team with me before I quit. "Is Nash still on the team?"

"Yeah."

I nodded and started walking away. I looked over my shoulder and said: "Sorry about this."

He didn't respond and slammed the door shut.

I knew Nash would either be in the gym or at the tracks late in the afternoon for practice. Until then I would have to wait. I took a quick shower and then went to class. Heero hadn't come back after he had supposedly left for his run. I went to get coffee at my local shop and realized with horror that the copies of the screenshot were everywhere and had everyone talking. The two girls in line in front of me were speculating about it before placing their orders for their fancy coffees with skim milk.

"Who do you think it is?" One asked the other.

"I don't know. But whoever this girl is, she is going to regret letting some guy in through the back door."

I raised my eyebrows. Her comment made me realize that based on the picture the gender of the receiving partner was unclear. Her friend noted:

"What makes you so sure it's a girl?"

They both giggled and the other admitted that if it were indeed two guys, her curiosity was piqued. As they walked off, they started debating who it could be. They were treating it like a game, completely unaware of how devastating and hurtful it could be for someone to get outed like that, not to mention the invasion of privacy.

Walking away, sipping my coffee quietly, I tried to figure out how I felt with the regard to posters, passing by a number of them as I headed for class. I decided I wasn't offended per se. I wasn't embarrassed about being gay and I was pretty confident with regard to my physique. But when I reminded myself that Nash must have nicked my phone at some point and had scrolled through the entire content, I did get pissed off. It was a violation and although I could have expected no less from him, it was still upsetting that he had such a lack of regard for other people's feelings. I wondered what he was thinking when he found that video, did he ever even think anything beyond "score!". Did he ever give pause and think about how the publication of images like that could hurt us?

The more thought I put into it, the more my aggression grew. I occupied myself with my coffee when I passed by a group of Freshmen studying the picture that was stuck to the door of the men's restrooms by the large auditoria – perhaps a hint at the gender of the second person involved?

"This is another Nash-classic," One of them commented. Apparently the crazy-haired prankster was infamous to the Freshmen as well.

"Even better than the last one, with the guy in the dress."

The group laughed as they recounted that incident.

I pivoted on my heels and stomped back towards them. "Show some respect, you vultures," I hissed at them and watched them cower. "You really want to admire a guy whose idea of a good laugh is invading someone's privacy like this?" I wormed my way through the small crowd and ripped the paper off the door. "Go to class. Do something useful with yourself."

They walked off, muttering among themselves.

I discarded the paper in the trashcan and stepped into the auditorium for my first lecture of the day.

At lunchtime I headed for the library to go talk to Heero and assure him that I was going to convince Nash to keep the rest of the images to himself. Luckily the school staff had also put some work into the issue and most, if not all of the copies had been taken off the walls and doors before second period. But of course, thanks to social media, there wasn't a single student at the university who hadn't been made aware of the prank and as I crossed through the buildings I picked up a lot of snippets of conversations hypothesizing the identities of the two people in the compromising position.

I walked into our private study room, sandwiches in hand, but Heero wasn't there.

He was avoiding me.

I felt horribly guilty for not having deleted that video. In all honesty I had more or less forgotten about it, considering the tragedy we had had to deal with last week. But I had to admit to myself that even if I hadn't forgotten, I wasn't sure if I would have been able to honor my promise and delete it. After all, Japan or Seattle, Heero was leaving and that video would be one of the few things I had of him, one of the few things to offer remembrance of what we were to each other – although it still wasn't fully clear what we really were to each other. I had never suspected a friends-with-benefits situation could make matters this complicated. It had seemed innocent enough when I first suggested it. It had changed everything and I couldn't decide if I regretted that or not. I loved Heero and despite the outcome I wouldn't have wanted that realization to pass me by – I loved loving him – but at the same time, if none of this had transpired, Heero and I would still be best friends; there would have been no resentment, no fear and no distance between us.

After my workshop I rushed to the gym but practice had already started and I couldn't very well run onto the court, grab Nash by his ear and drag him off. I didn't want to raise any suspicion or else the secret would be out anyway. I took a seat on the bleachers and watched what remained of the old team practice passes and do suicide drills. My eyes followed his movements and I could feel my anger boiling until the point where steam must have been coming out of my ears.

Practice wrapped up two hours later and the boys hit the showers. I headed out back and waited by the door, nodding my greeting at some of my former teammates when they emerged from the locker rooms. Some of them shook my hand or patted my back and told me they missed me as their team captain, but my cold demeanor put them off and they swiftly left me alone.

Nash, who could always be trusted to be lazy, was the last to walk outside. His blue wet hair stuck to his forehead and the back of his neck. A towel around his shoulders caught the rivulets of water running down from his mop of hair.

He spotted me, waved casually and said: "Hey Duo, what's up?"

Before he knew it, I had rushed towards him and pinned him against the brick wall. I ripped his bag off his shoulder and tossed it aside and slammed him into the wall harder still when he tried to step forward and fight me off.

"What is wrong with you?!" He demanded in protest.

"You have gone too far this time."

He rolled his eyes. "So I tripped Perky during the suicides… We always pull shit on the Freshman when they first join the team."

I frowned at him. "What? No… Who's Perky?"

"Perkins? The Freshman? This isn't about Perky?"

"No! You know damn well what this is about!"

Realization visibly dawned on him. "You're talking about the picture."

"Yes!"

"What's it to you?" He scoffed.

"Everything! You don't know what you are doing! You are going to ruin our lives!" I grabbed his shoulders and shook him, needing to get through to him or else Heero would never forgive me.

He stilled. His eyes widened with shock. "The picture… That's you?" He blurted. "That's you and Heero!"

I frowned at his surprise, which appeared authentic. "Of course it is, you've seen the video."

"There's a video? Dude, I always suspected something might be up between the two of you but I never figured you were actually…" He rocked his hips back and forth to illustrate his point. Fear came over his expression when he became aware of the depth of my anger and what I was accusing him of. "Look, bro, I had nothing to do with this!"

"You seriously expect me to believe that? After that last stunt?"

"Come on man, give me some credit! I'm an asshole but I'm not a monster. Yuy just came back from burying his grandmother and all." He pushed me back, my grip had lost most of its strength as I was thoroughly confused. "I didn't do this. I mean, I might have… I could have… if times were different, but not a week after his grandma kicks it."

"It has your name written all over it…" I argued dumbly.

"It's a copycat. It's flattering really."

"Everyone seems to agree that it is your handiwork."

He shrugged. "And I'm not going to tell them otherwise. I thought this was a class-A stunt and I'd happily take the credit if no one else will. Credit, mind you. I'm not going to take the blame for something I didn't do."

"I believe you…" I uttered dumbly. I did. It made sense, after all, I really couldn't think of a single instance when I had left my phone unattended in his presence, I knew better than that. "Do you know who did it?"

"Not any of my friends," He answered, "Or else they would've shut me up when I took the credit."

"I don't understand who else would do this…"

"So you and Heero, huh?"

"Yeah." I shook my head. "Sort of."

"Cool." He smirked. "I'm guessing he's the one 'taking it like a champ'?"

Angered by his remark I shoved him back into the wall again. "Don't ever fucking say anything to anyone, you hear?"

"Fine," He agreed, straightening his clothes. "Like I said, I'm not out to hurt Heero at a time like this. But I gotta ask: is me keeping it a secret going to matter?" At my look he explained: "If this image is part of a video and you guys are recognizable in the video at some point, my guess is the 'money shot' is going to go public within the next couple of days."

"I have to find out who did it and stop them."

"Well…" He started but then shook his head and chuckled.

"What?"

"I get why I was your prime suspect, but maybe you should talk to Hilde, or Relena. No wrath like a woman scorned, man. Or something." He scrunched up his face.

"That's impossible. I haven't even seen them since I took the video. They couldn't have gotten hold of my phone."

"If you're sure about that, than I don't have a clue who else there might be." He looked around himself. "Am I allowed to leave?"

I waved my hand dismissively. "Yes. Go."

"Good luck man," Nash said and then he stuffed his hands into his pockets and walked away casually and unhurried.

"Fuck." I dreaded going back to our dorm. I didn't want to face Heero without having good news to tell him. I couldn't stand him looking at me the way he had that morning, with such complete distrust, disappointment and displeasure.

When I was about to retreat and bite the bullet, a thought came to me. I had been trying to remember specific instances in which I may have taken my phone out of my pocket and left it somewhere and then I remembered I sometimes placed it in a hidden corner on the counter behind the bar. I couldn't recall placing it there at some point during the previous week, but it was a habit of mine to put it there when I was bored, so I had easy access to my game of Tetris, or some other distraction. Martin hated that I sometimes played games during working hours, even when there was no one at the bar. More importantly, Martin hated me.

Motive and opportunity, that was what police detectives looked for when solving a crime, right?

Even though I knew the odds were slim Martin was working that night – he usually only worked the Mondays and sometimes the weekends – I started towards the on-campus bar. Standing at the door I spotted Obie and one of the other guys behind the bar. Not deterred, I stepped inside and waited for Obie to finish serving a group of friends their drinks.

"You hate coming to the bar on your nights off," He pointed out as a way of greeting.

"I was looking for Martin."

"You hate Martin," He deadpanned.

"Yeah. But I- I need him for something. Do you know where he lives?"

"Nah, man, couldn't tell ya. He doesn't live on campus though, I know that much." Sensing something was wrong, he inquired: "What's going on? What do you need Martin for?"

Ignoring his concerned question I asked him if he could call Martin and ask him to come to the bar.

"Dude, should I be worried? You've got a bad case of the crazy-eyes going on…"

"I just really need to talk to him, okay?!" I erupted, not bothered by the stares and frowns my outburst earned me.

Obie didn't say anything. He moved away, got the phone from the wall and got the call-list from a drawer. His finger went down the list of names until it paused halfway and he dialed the listed number. "Hi, misses Surrs, this is Owen Banes from the campus bar, I work with your son. Is Martin home?" When he looked up at me I mouthed 'thanks'. "Cool. Thank you, misses Surrs… Martin, hi, it's Owen. Would you mind coming to the bar? I need someone to cover Herman's shift, he's sick…"

I shook my head. None of the employers were named Herman, he was making it up.

"Yeah, you know, Herman! Dark hair, hipster beard? Yeah, he's puking all over the place… Thanks Martin, I knew I could count on you." He promptly hung up the phone.

"Herman?"

"Jen is making me read Moby Dick."

Ah, Herman Melville. I chuckled. 'Hipster beard'.

"She says I'm 'uncultured'." He scoffed. "Anyways, he'll be here in about twenty minutes. You're going to wait for him right here," He pointed at the bar stool I was standing next to. "And you are going to talk to him under my supervision. Otherwise I feel like your next request is going to be for me to provide you with an alibi."

"It's kind of a private conversation."

He nodded and looked around. "It's a quiet evening, we'll take it to the storage room."

That would have to do. I wasn't worried about the truth of the situation being revealed to Obie, I knew I could trust him. Things might get weird between us for a little while, but I had faith Obie wouldn't let my sexual orientation be any kind of obstruction to our friendship in the end. Jenny might think of him as uncultured, but he was more enlightened than she – or anybody else - gave him credit for.

He poured me a single beer and stressed that I wasn't going to get any more, just one, to take the edge off. Together we waited for Martin to show up.

The young man arrived exactly twenty minutes later and looked rightfully confused when he stepped inside and saw two men working the bar. Quickly coming to the conclusion that he had been lured there under false pretenses he stalked up to the bar and confronted Obie. Obie convinced him to step into the storage room with us and he closed the door behind him. I felt a little claustrophobic in the tight place and Martin looked troubled too, although mostly about being teamed up on.

"Did you call me here just to fire me?"

"You're not getting fired, Martin, sit down." Obie nodded at an empty crate.

With a huff he took a seat and looked up at the two of us. "Well?" His impatience was apparent.

Obie looked at me expectantly as well.

"Did you take my phone?" I asked him. I had to be careful with my phrasing, if he turned out not to be the culprit, I couldn't let the interrogation be what clued him in and reveal the secret after all.

"Your phone?" He repeated. "Of course I don't have your phone…"

"I'm not asking you if you still have it. I'm asking you if you took it, at some point last week. Monday, maybe?"

"Took it for what purpose?" He was very confused by it all.

Obie, who respectfully wasn't meddling, also had a deep frown on his forehead.

"Did you look at private pictures on my phone?" I watched his reaction closely.

Martin didn't say anything, he just looked clueless.

"Did you look at my pictures?!" I shouted suddenly, startling them both.

"No!" He looked up at Obie pathetically, begging for assistance. "What is going on?"

I felt my friend lay a hand on his shoulder. "I think we've established that he didn't touch your phone, Duo," He tried.

"No!" I argued childishly, "It has to be him!" Because if it wasn't him than I didn't know what to do next. I wasn't ready to accept the mystery as unsolved and my situation as hopeless. "You did it, didn't you?!"

Obie stopped me before I could lunge forward, grab Martin by his collar and force the answer out of him. "Duo, for God's sake!"

"I didn't do anything! I didn't do anything!" Martin practically squealed, rolling off the crate to avoid my flailing arms and legs as Obie tried to control me.

Eventually I was pushed against a wall of boxes and Obie silenced me with a single, warning finger raised in front of my face.

"Go home, Martin," He said.

"You two are crazy!"

"I'll pay you for your time and I'll see you Monday."

Martin snorted and started to walk off, but before he left the storage room he wondered curiously: "Seriously though, who is Herman?"

"Goodbye, Martin!" The two of us said in unison.

He rolled his eyes at us and left. The door fell shut and we looked at each other.

"Are you going to tell me what that was all about?"

I leaned back against the boxes and let my head fall.

"What makes you think Martin, or anyone for that matter, looked at private stuff on your phone?"

"Because at this point the entire school body has seen the private stuff on my phone!" I blurted and I watched realization dawn on him as he put the puzzle pieces together.

"That photo today… that's yours?"

I exhaled and nodded, shamefully crossing my arms in front of my chest.

He was silent for a moment and then he admitted: "I don't know what to say… I wanna say: you go, dude! Finally! But… that seems inappropriate since you're clearly upset about it."

"Yeah- Wait, what? What do you mean 'Finally'?"

"It's Heero, right? Now, I don't claim to know for sure which one is which, but I have an idea and… well… you go, dude."

I stared at him. "How did you know?"

"You've been in love with him for a while…" He pointed out with a shrug.

I shook my head. It had crossed my mind that he might have put two and two together a while ago, but to be confronted with the fact that he had known all along was still quite shocking. All that time I had been fighting to keep it a secret when I could have told him. "Was it that obvious?"

"No," He readily answered and seemed sincere. "Only to people who know you pretty well, I guess."

I started chuckling breathlessly. "I can't believe it… this is so weird. And you're okay with it?"

"I actually prefer the 'new Duo' to the way you were before. The playboy suit never seemed to fit you quite right, it always felt like dress-up. The last few months you've been more… real." He made a face at himself. "I'm not making any sense."

"Actually… you are."

A smile appeared on his lips, but then he asked seriously: "I take it you and Heero are not happy with this picture being spread all over campus though."

"Heero is freaking out. More than anything he is afraid of his father finding out."

He nodded sympathetically. "I really don't believe Martin did it though. If anything because I think he truly believes you could and would kill him if he ever overstepped a line like that."

"You're probably right, but I just needed it to be him," I looked up at him with desperate eyes. "I need to fix this, before it gets really bad."

"What would 'really bad' be like?"

"A screenshot where we are both recognizable." My face contorted with horror. Heero would hate me forever.

"It was a video? Woah…"

"Woah, indeed."

He got a pensive look on his face. "I suppose you've already confronted Nash."

"Of course."

"What about Hilde? Or Relena?"

"Nash suggested the same, but the video is too new. I haven't even seen them and neither of them is the breaking-and-entering type."

"I'd talk to them, just to be sure, you know?" He suggested.

I agreed and then decided I should get to it. I would save telling him the strange details of my relationship with Heero for some other time. I was surprised when he gave me a hug and I returned the gesture of affection awkwardly. When I walked out the bar my heart was beating in my throat, my gaze flitted from left to right, I was afraid of every poster and flyer, worried that the follow-up might have already been posted. The coast was, fortunately, still clear, but I knew it wouldn't last. This wasn't just some prank, this was done by someone out to get me, it was only a matter of time until the next screenshot would be posted. The truth would be revealed. I didn't mind that, but I minded the method. And I certainly minded that someone was hurting Heero in the process. I was overwhelmed with the need to protect him.

The girl's dorm building where Hilde and Relena lived was quiet. The living room and the kitchen were dark. I went upstairs and knocked on Hilde's door, but instead of her answering, the neighboring door opened up and a significantly younger student with glasses looked at me. "Hi," She chirped.

"Hi." I pointed at the door. "Is Hilde here?"

"Nope. Sorority-trip. Florida, I heard," She said concisely.

I raised my eyebrows. I never suspected Hilde would go along on something like that, ditching classes and everything, but then again, she had changed a lot since she befriended Relena. "When did they leave?"

"Saturday."

I should have been relieved that it couldn't have been her, nor Relena, but I was disappointed because it meant I was still as far removed as ever from solving this problem. "When will they be back?"

"Thursday."

I sighed. What was I supposed to do?

"Do you want me to give her a message when she gets back?"

"No…" I muttered forlornly. "I suspect that by the time she gets back the message will be loud and clear." If Hilde's attempt at becoming friends again was genuine, she would understand and accept, given some time. Relena, however, would certainly lose her shit. Under different circumstances that would have been amusing to be witness to.

Of course she didn't know what that meant. She stared at me oddly.

"Thanks for your help. Goodnight."

"Okay. Goodnight." She abruptly shut the door.

I cursed under my breath. Dragging my feet I returned to dorm building B. My entire body felt heavy as I hoisted it up the single flight of stairs. Our room was empty and I quickly figured Heero had taken refuge in the library. It was a relief to not have to tell him that I had failed, although I couldn't keep avoiding the matter. I had to at least give him a head's up.

I sat down on his bed and produced my phone from my pocket. I searched for the video and pressed play once I found it. Because it had caused so much trouble – with the promise of even more shit to hit the fan – it was no longer enjoyable to watch, much less arousing and, albeit with slight hesitation, I ended up deleting the video, like I had promised Heero I would.

Around midnight I decided to go look for him. I nodded at the night guard patrolling the otherwise empty library. The study rooms were locked for the night, so I didn't know where to find him. When he obviously wasn't at any of the tables in the central area underneath the black skylights I started zigzagging through the aisles, going up all four floors. I spotted him on the top floor, in a far corner. He was seated on the red, carpeted floor, leaning his back against the lower bookshelves, his head lolled to one side. I approached him with inaudible footfalls and watched him sleep, surrounded by textbooks. I crouched by his slumped figure and my fingers reached for his tousled bangs that covered his eyes, but I stopped myself. I didn't want to wake him. I was too afraid. I let myself believe that I was doing him a favor by letting him sleep. My eyes drank in the sight of him for several minutes before I got up with a sigh and headed back home.

Once outside, in the privacy of darkness, tears started rushing down my face. It was still shocking to me how everything had fallen apart so rapidly. Only a few days ago I had cherished hope that Heero had developed the same feelings for me as I had for him and we could finally be together in the meaningful way that I had craved for a long time. Now everything was in shambles. Heero was going to leave for Seattle no matter what, apparently having no good reason to make any kind of effort for us to stay together, but now he wasn't just leaving for Seattle to make use of a job opportunity, he would be leaving for Seattle to get away from me, hating me. Things were worse than when I still thought he was moving back to Japan.

I didn't want him to give up on Seattle and this amazing job opportunity, but I also didn't want him to give up on us. I needed to fix things between us, so I would be welcome to join him in Seattle after my summer program in Columbus and things would be right between us; I wanted to be able to come home to him.

I opened the front door and quickly wiped away the trails of tears on my cheeks when I heard the roaring laughter coming from the living room.

"Come on, man!" One of the housemates urged. "Tell us who it is!"

"We know you did it!"

I peered through the archway at the group of guys surrounding Nash, begging him to spill the details. He was still perfectly content letting everyone believe he was the 'mastermind' behind the day's prank. Our gazes met and he shrugged his shoulders and then deflected their questions with an analogy about magicians never revealing their tricks. They continued to gush over him like he was a rock star. I shook my head at their antics and went upstairs.

Seated on a step halfway up the staircase was Norwood. He shifted so I could walk by him.

"Aren't you going to join the fun?" I asked him.

He looked up at me uneasily. "I will."

I stared at him for a moment. I didn't understand why, after all these years, he still sought to befriend those guys. "Goodnight, man."

"Goodnight."

It wasn't a good night. I was tossing and turning and felt sick to my stomach. Heero didn't come back to the room all night and I wondered if he was still asleep on the library floor or wandering around outside, too angry at me to even be in the same room as I was.

The early morning sun peeked through the opening between the curtains and I stared at the bright line it drew across the ceiling and down the wall and how it was distorted by the dips and waves of my sheets. I kicked away the sheets and jumped out of bed. The bottom bunk was empty. I got dressed quickly, even though it was insanely early in the morning and I didn't have class until the early afternoon. With a heart beating wildly I went outside. I checked our dorm building for new posters, but there was nothing. I wasn't put at ease yet, though. I started scouring the grounds, looking everywhere. The main buildings, except for the 24/7 library, wouldn't open for another hour, but I pressed my nose against the windows, cupping my hands around my face so I could peer inside. There was nothing on the walls as far as I could tell.

At seven thirty when my coffee shop opened I hurried to get a big cup of the hot, caffeinated brew and then stationed myself at the main entrance of the largest faculty building. I greeted the janitor who came to unlock the door and make his rounds.

The morning was quiet, nothing happened. Students made their way to class peacefully, some of them disappointed at the fact that there was no follow-up on yesterday's prank. The curiosity was killing them, but I knew they wouldn't have to wait long if the prankster got his way. With finals drawing near, he couldn't afford people to lose interest in his stunt, the next image would have to be posted before he exceeded their attention span.

With classes starting and the entire campus crawling with students I figured I had lucked out and had gotten another day to solve my problem. I went to the library, to our usual, private study room and hoped Heero would show up there around lunch time as per our routine for the past four years.

I waited there for almost three hours. It was nearly noon when the intercom crackled to life and a female voice announced:

"Mister D.W. Maxwell, please report to the headmaster's office."

I swallowed.

She repeated urgently: "D.W. Maxwell, report to the headmaster's office immediately."

The nervous sweat on my palms was instant. In my four year presence at the university I had only ever been called to principal Andrews' office once, when Nash had gotten the entire basketball team in trouble with one of this stupid jokes. It was too much of a coincidence, surely he wasn't going to congratulate me on unexpectedly passing my mathematics class.

Apprehensively I walked out of the study room, through the hallway and into the main area of the library. Heads turned and whispered conversations were sparked as I walked by. The librarian looked at me with cold, judgmental eyes and shook her head at me.

Oh, shit.

I crossed the campus grounds to the left wing of the main building where the administrative offices were located. At the end of an ominous, long hallway was the headmaster's reception, beyond which was his office, with a wall of frosted glass.

As I neared, two figures on the other side of the frosted glass approached the door; one tall, one short – shorter still with bowed head. The door opened and Heero appeared first, followed closely by his father who did not look amused.

I sped my pace, rushing towards them. I wanted to take him in my arms and comfort him, he looked absolutely devastated.

When he noticed me walking up to him he narrowed his reddened eyes at me and his glare stopped me dead in my tracks. He was about to pass me by without a word, but I begged him: "What happened? What's going on?"

"Keep walking," Odin barked and he gave me a foul look of his own and I finally saw some family resemblance. His expression spoke volumes. He blamed me for ruining his perfect son.

Paying no attention to Odin, I begged my friend and my lover: "Heero, please… I'm so sorry."

"You're sorry?" He suddenly snapped and he pushed me against my chest so powerfully that he knocked me into the wall of the hallway. "Fuck you, Duo! Look at what you've done to me! What you've done to my life! And all of it just because you wanted an easy fuck!" His father didn't have to urge him, he stomped away on his own accord, Odin trailing him.

"I-" With my breath hitching in the back of my throat I was rendered silent.

"Mister Maxwell."

I turned around and saw Andrews waiting for me in the door-opening to his office, looking very serious. Reluctantly I entered his office and took a seat opposite of his at the big desk. My face contorted when I saw the cause of everything, displayed on the surface of the desk: a single printed-out screenshot. It was from the part of the video where I had pulled Heero upright and we were both looking directly in the mirror while I stroked his dick and fucked him from behind.

Andrews sat down and pushed the copy even further out towards me, for shock value. "This was posted all over school and the internet about an hour ago. Three Freshmen were handing them out and putting them up on the walls. They said someone paid them to spread the images around campus. Of course they wouldn't tell me who that person was."

I swallowed audibly.

"Initially I suspected you two were behind the spread of this material yourselves. But, based on mister Yuy's severe emotional reaction," He made a face, judging him, "it seems someone else was responsible. Is that correct?"

I nodded fervently. "I didn't do this."

His phone rang suddenly, loudly, causing me to flinch. He raised his fingers to silence my impending plea for mercy and answered the call.

I wiped my wet hands on my jeans and tried to steady my breath in an attempt to calm my heartbeat. The phone call lasted several minutes, but still it was not enough time for me to compose myself. I was jittery with anxiety. My gaze kept drifting towards the picture on the desk and oddly my most prominent thought was: I'm never going to make love to him again. This realization saddened me, mostly because it made me wonder: did we ever make love? Was it ever more than sex, if his heart hadn't been in it the way mine was?

He hung up and continued: "Do you know who did this?"

"No," I croaked.

He made a displeased sound and then made a note in a file. "Considering the nature of this incident I was forced to contact both your and mister Yuy's parents. Your father wasn't available for a meeting, however."

I nodded. He never was available. "So you told him what's in the picture?"

"Not over the phone, no, that is not proper conduct, but I expect he'll ask you about this." He could barely contain his smirk. Fucking asshole. He was loving it.

I doubted my father would ever bother to reach out to me and ask me what this was all about, he honestly didn't care if I got myself in trouble. But Andrews didn't know that he would relish the thought of me having to come out to my father.

"Since you both deny publicizing the pictures and there is no evidence proving your involvement, this incident will not lead to expulsion," He said matter-of-factly. "Seeing as this qualifies as online bullying I will hereby refer you to our school psychologist, should you need any emotional support…"

"Thanks," I replied dryly.

"And of course the school will start an investigation and hopefully we can figure out who was responsible."

"Okay."

"As a university, we can't be perceived as condoning this kind of sexual contact between our students, so I would normally assign one of you to a different dorm building, but since that won't be necessary you can stay in your current room and because it is so late in the year you won't get a new roommate."

I frowned. "New roommate? What do you mean? I thought neither of us were going to get expelled."

He folded his hands together on top of the desk. With barely contained glee he revealed: "Mister Yuy has not been expelled. However, based on his son's transgressions mister Lowe is refusing to pay the final tuition payment as well as the outstanding tuition debt. Without payment, mister Yuy is no longer allowed to attend classes or to live on the university campus."

"It's only a month until graduation!" I protested. "You can't do this!"

"I'm not doing anything. No payments equal no classes, equal no final exams and being unable to finish his courses, mister Yuy does not have the necessary credits to graduate."

"This is bullshit!"

"Mister Maxwell," He warned, "Do not give me reason to expel you after all." He glanced down at his watch. "According to your roster your next class will start in ten minutes. You are dismissed."

With a frustrated growl I stormed out of his office and ran out the building. Outside I literally bumped into one of my classmates - because he moved into my path - who pressed a copy of the photo in my hands and started laughing.

"I saved one for you! The janitors have nearly gotten rid of all of them!"

His group of friends, standing a little further back, also laughed and catcalled.

"Fuck me like you mean it!" One of them imitated in a ridiculous, high-pitched, moan-y voice.

I realized the entire video was probably uploaded online and that was how he was able to quote one of the things Heero had said to me amidst the passion. My first, instinctual reaction was jealousy; an ugly, all-encompassing kind of jealousy. I hated the thought that all these guys had seen Heero naked and so intimately, even though most of them were straight and not in the least interested in him in that way. I didn't want to share Heero with anyone, much less those kinds of assholes.

I pushed my way past the six foot tall obstacle and continued racing towards our dorm building, still holding the print-out. I climbed up the stairs two steps at a time and was out of breath by the time I reached the door to our dorm room. I was out of shape. I burst through the door and froze. The room had been completely ransacked. The closet door was open and Heero's clothes were gone. The sheets were pulled from the bottom bunk. His books and laptop were missing from the desk.

For a moment I was too shocked to react in any way.

He was gone. He was gone. The thought kept repeating itself but I just stood there dumbly. It was a truth too difficult to accept, until suddenly I let out the most pathetic wail I had ever heard – hardly believing I was hearing my own voice – and I started kicking the door and hitting the doorpost with my bare knuckles, beating them raw within a few punches. The picture fell to my feet.

"Duo?" Someone tried meekly.

I paused my rage and turned to face Norwood. He looked disturbed at the sight of my emotional state.

"I'm so sorry," He started, his voice breaking. "It was a joke. I just wanted the guys to like me, to think I was cool."

"What?" I seethed. I took a step towards him.

"I wanted to show Nash I could be just like him. I didn't know it would get this bad. I thought it would be funny. I just wanted Nash and the other guys to finally like me!" He never saw my fist coming. I didn't even know I was going to hit him until after it had already happened. My sore, red knuckles impacted with his jaw and he fell backwards from the force of the blow.

I stood over him with my fists balled at my sides. "I'm going to go now…" I said, my voice shaking and uneven. "Or else I might kill you."

He stared up at me with big, frightened eyes, cupping his offended jaw with one hand. For a moment I wasn't sure if I could stop myself from hitting him again, or kicking him while he was down. I was disgusted by him. Heero and I had never treated him with anything other than respect and kindness and we stood up for him whenever the others bullied him. I remembered being like him – long ago. Being the outcast who just desperately wanted to belong. But I never stepped over anybody the way he did in the pursuit of popularity. To think he would betray us like that caused my entire body to quiver.

In an instant I knew what had happened. My phone had been on the kitchen table last week when Heero and I were doing the dishes and Norwood had sat there, eating our goddamn leftovers! With our backs turned towards him, both of us lost in our own thoughts, he must have quietly sneaked a peek at my phone. I didn't understand what had motivated him. Maybe he had had suspicions about us, like Nash and Obie, and was looking for proof to get in with the popular crowd.

Whatever his reasons, he had stabbed us in the back.

Finally my feet shifted and I walked away. Behind me I could hear him release the anxious breath he had been holding.

I didn't return until hours later when Norwood had long made himself scarce but the door to our room was still open and the picture was still on the floor. I went to work at the bar that evening because there was nothing else I could do. I didn't think going to Odin's house and asking to talk to Heero would be fruitful in any way. I shared the shift with Obie and during the quiet evening I told him the entire story, from start to finish; from having a crazy idea to falling madly in love. From finding the love of my life, to ruining his life. Obie listened attentively and in the end he asked a very simple question that sparked determination within me.

"How much tuition money would he need to graduate?"

I didn't know, but I was going to find out and I was going to pay for it, I decided. It was the least I owed him. Our relationship couldn't be the thing that cost him his diploma, not only would he never forgive me, I would never forgive myself. It didn't take much to persuade Obie to let me take all his shifts for the next week – even though he needed the cash too – and the next day I convinced a student employee working in Administration to look up the amount that 'Mister Yuy' was due. Considering our relationship – which the entire student-body knew about at that point – she didn't question the ethics of sharing that kind of information with me.

It would take nearly three thousand dollars for Heero to be able to graduate with his class and the payment had to be done by next Monday or else his enrollment would be automatically cancelled and he wouldn't be allowed to attend class anymore anyway.

As soon as she had spilled the beans I raced back to our dorm room – it would always be our dorm room – and I ripped the bottom drawer out of our desk. Between the clutter was the fancy Breitling box, with my ostentatious golden Christmas present inside. The retail value of the watch was over two thousand dollars but I realized that was not the sum I could get for it at a pawn shop. Still, with my bank account depleted after our trip to Japan, it was the only money I had. I had looked forward to giving it back to my parents as a symbolic 'Fuck you', but it served a far more important purpose now.

I bartered with the man at the pawn shop for half an hour before resorting to pathetic pleas – none of which proved to be particularly effective. He took the gold watch and gave me thirteen hundred dollars for it. Although I had been aware it was a long shot, I still felt disappointed walking out of the shop with that kind of money. Even if I covered every shift until Monday and lucked out with generous tips, I still wouldn't have the cash necessary to pay Heero's tuition. I wished I had more things to sell. I would have sold anything and everything if I believed it had some true value, but I had nothing.

There was only one thing I could do.

Seated at the desk, in our dorm room, I stared at my phone that I had placed on the surface in front of me. I ran both hands through my hair and nervously jiggled my right leg. With determination I snatched the phone up and scrolled through my contacts.

Filed under "M", with an appropriate measure of detachment, was a contact listed as: "Mister Maxwell". My dad. Holding the phone to my ear I stared straight ahead out the window. I would have called my mother if I believed she was allowed to do anything without my father's explicit permission.

Two of my housemates were playing a one-on-one game of soccer, without a care in the world. I watched their impressive footwork as they performed tricks with the ball. I knew I had to be patient, my father only ever answered my calls if I let it ring annoyingly long, which alerted him that I wouldn't be giving up.

"Duo," He said, foregoing any formality of a greeting.

"Dad," I shot back in a similar, loveless tone.

"First I get a call yesterday from the headmaster at that joke-of-a-school of yours and now you yourself are calling. This must be serious." His tone was dry.

"I need to borrow some money." There was no point trying to ease him into this.

His chuckle was low and contemptuous. "Aren't you the one who insisted on standing on his own two feet? I thought you were too proud to accept any money other than the tuition payments."

"It's not for me," I tried to explain. "I got a friend of mine in trouble and now we need money for his tuition or else he won't be able to graduate." I was deliberately vague because the details of situation were more than likely to make him antagonistic.

"I don't pay for your mistakes, Duo. You pay for your mistakes."

"Should my friend pay for my mistakes?" I countered.

"He knew what kind of person he was befriending."

My free hand clenched into a tight fist and shuddered where it rested on my thigh. "Dad, please…" I had never begged him for anything.

"You are the self-proclaimed independent son, Duo. Figure it out," He said condescendingly.

My phone beeped. He had disconnected the line.

I jumped up from my seat and started pacing back and forth in the room. My face was red and hot with anger and my fists trembled at my sides. I hated him. I hated him fiercely. I wished I could hurt him the way he had hurt me my entire life, but I feared at that point that even the disappointment of finding out that his own son was a homosexual wouldn't affect him to the extent that I wished it would. He had already cast me aside; he had stopped caring about me a long time ago.

That evening I dragged my feet heading to the bar. I hoped I could at least scrape enough money together for an acceptable down payment, although I feared principal Andrews wouldn't accept Heero back before the amount was paid in full, he wouldn't be willing to make any lenient exceptions for the likes of us.

Standing at the door I frowned at the crowd that had gathered inside. It was unusually busy, to say the least, the entire space was packed with people and Obie – who wasn't even supposed to be there because it was his shift I was covering – stood on top of the bar, enigmatically speaking to the cheering crowd.

Confused, I opened the door and stepped inside.

Obie accepted a large fishbowl that was handed to him by the other bartender. He got out his wallet and demonstratively put a fifty-dollar bill in the empty fishbowl before handing it to the nearest person. "You all know what you're here for, ladies and gentlemen! School is not the same without Heero Yuy here to make us look like idiots in comparison and I know we were all looking forward to what I'm sure will be a quotable-as-Hell, passive aggressive Valedictorian speech on his behalf at graduation. So, be as generous as you can afford to be! Let us raise our hands and give a big 'Fuck you!' to Andrews!" He threw his hand up, middle finger outstretched and every person present followed his lead. The bowl was passed from person to person and everyone deposited money into it.

I was dumbstruck by the scene.

Obie spotted me, frozen by the door, and called: "The main attraction has arrived!"

Everyone turned to face me and started whistling, cheering and catcalling and Obie waved me over to join him on top of the bar. He helped me climb up and gave me a big hug before addressing the patrons, while I stood there awkwardly, with his arm around my shoulders.

"To all the ladies who were dumped by Duo, or never even asked out by him…" He started.

I made a face, was that really the way to gather sympathy for the cause?

With a grin he continued: "Don't you feel much better now, knowing it wasn't your fault? The man was gay, for fuck's sake!"

Everyone laughed and I, too, chuckled.

"I think it's only fair that if we raise enough money tonight to pay for Heero's tuition," He paused for dramatic effect, "Duo will show us all his gratitude by performing a little striptease, before his boyfriend has him on lockdown for good!"

I looked at him with big, frightened eyes. "Nononono…"

"Ohh, yesss…" He drawled.

We got off the bar and started serving people drinks as the volume of the music was turned up and the bowl was still going around. He asked me how much I was still short and I gave him the number. His mouth tightened but then he was quick to reassure me.

"How on earth did you arrange this?" I asked, taking in the gathered crowd with bewilderment.

"Social media, my cave-man friend," He answered smartly.

"You have this many friends on Facebook?"

He shrugged. "I had a little help… I asked Norwood to name the time and place on the same site where he uploaded the video of you guys- uh…" He flashed a grin to brush it off. "Everyone who watched the video from that point on got the invite to tonight's fundraiser. I guess it's safe to say the video is still very popular… Hey, if being an architect never pans out, you could always try your luck in the porn-industry."

I punched his shoulder playfully and he laughed heartedly.

"Do you mind sending me the link to that website, with the video?" I inquired.

"Not at all man, it's your 'intellectual property'." He wondered as an afterthought: "Why?"

"I think it might be a good opener to an email I should have written to my father a long time ago."

"You sure about that?" He asked, although the idea caused a ridiculous grin to appear on his face.

"Oh yeah." When I was at Administration, I asked the nice girl to look up my tuition as well and she informed me that the amount had been paid in full at the start of the academic year. There was nothing he could do to me, I was free. I had long fantasized about throwing my sexual orientation in his face as a final insult to his reputation, but I didn't even want to see him for that purpose. I was just going to have to imagine the look on his face when the news was revealed to him.

He nodded and took a swig of a glass of beer he kept behind the counter.

Observing the crowd, I noted absentmindedly: "Norwood helped, huh?"

"Yeah. He feels really bad."

"Good." I tapped myself a glass of beer.

"Would you consider forgiving him if we manage to make things right?"

I sighed. "Even if we get the money together, things won't be right. He still really fucked us over. And it's not like we would be together the way I want us to be. It wasn't the same for Heero. He doesn't love me."

He raised his eyebrows. "How do you know?"

I frowned. "Well… because he never said anything."

"Did you tell him you love him?" He countered.

"No, but… only because I was too afraid to fuck things up."

He nodded sympathetically. "But maybe Heero was too afraid as well."

His almost casual remark silenced me.

He placed his hand on my shoulder and squeezed. "Think about that." With a final pat he got back to work.

Could he be right? Did I dare to hope? What if Heero had been struggling with the same issues as I had? In love but too scared to admit it because he didn't think the feelings would be reciprocated. 'All because you wanted an easy fuck!' Heero had accused, clearly he believed it was still only about the sex for me, because I never communicated differently. 'Why should I give up Seattle? Tell me why? Give me a reason!' He had said. I had interpreted it as a challenge, but in hindsight it seemed a plea for me to finally say it. What if he had needed me to say it first? The way I had been naively waiting for him to take the initiative.

"Hey bartender!" Someone called.

I shook my head and turned around and spotted a familiar face at the bar.

WuFei smiled at me and raised two fingers. "Can I have two beers?"

It was only then that I noticed Sally, his long-time girlfriend, was with him. Shaking my head I got them two beers and set the glasses on the bar, right in front of them.

He leaned over the bar and held out a hundred dollar bill. "Keep the change," He said and he laughed at my expression.

I accepted the money with gratitude. "Did you hear from Heero?"

He shook his head.

Unannounced Nash jumped up onto the bar and gestured for the music to be turned up even louder. Clearly drunk, but well-spirited, he shouted: "Are you people ready for the half-time show?" He promptly started dancing to the heavy beat and seconds later his shirt flew into the crowd to a roar of laughter. Gyrating his hips, shaking his ass and swinging his arms he entertained the crowd, but even more so: himself. Nash wasn't much of a humanitarian, he wasn't the guy for the good cause, but he knew a good party when he saw one and would never pass that up.

The bowl was returned to the bar and I watched from a distance as Obie counted the money. When he was done he handed the bowl back to a girl on the other side of the bar and told her to pass it around again. Evidently not enough money had been raised yet. He walked up to me and patted me on the shoulder. "Don't worry, man. We're close. We're gonna do this."

We worked the bar for two more hours. My gaze kept shifting towards the crowd, watching the bowl nervously. It didn't fill up nearly as quickly as before and people were more focused on having a good time than taking out their wallets, many of them directly handed it over to the next person.

I was incredibly nervous and spilled a lot of beer that evening.

The bowl was deposited on the bar again and I let Obie count the money and add it up with the earlier load. It was taking so long and my heart was beating so irregularly I thought I wouldn't be able to stand it any longer and I would pass out. After an anxious re-count he looked at me and his face said it all.

I stripped down to my underwear that night, in front of everyone. What the Hell, I figured, nothing they hadn't seen before. The sense of victory quelled the nerves.

The next morning I wasted no time going to Administration to make the payment. The clerks were befuddled at the large, cash payment, but they were cooperative and made it work. Heero's tuition was paid in full and he was allowed back in class, effective immediately.

With complete disregard for my own class schedule I took a taxi to his dad's place, expecting him to be there. Nobody answered the door, no matter how long I knocked. A sudden uneasiness overwhelmed me. Since his father obviously did not approve of his son's besmirched reputation he might have kicked him out. With nowhere else to go, could he have gone back to Japan? I was restless with fear. I hurried back to campus and waited by the doors of the indoor pool for Trowa to arrive for practice later in the afternoon. I had been to so many swim meets, I knew the schedule by heart.

Trowa was the only other person in the world Heero would call a friend and he was my last hope to get in touch with him, to tell him that he could finish school and to finally tell him that I loved him.

"Trowa!" I called out his name when I saw him approaching from the parking lot and I rushed towards him. "Please tell me you know where Heero is…" I was out of breath.

"Yes, I know where he is. He's on my couch."

I heaved a sigh of relief. "I need to see him. I need to talk to him."

He shook his head. "I promised him I wouldn't let you get near him. Boy, is he pissed." He glared at me.

"You have to take me to see him, please!" I begged. "I fixed it! Did you hear about last night? I fixed it! He can come back to class."

Trowa looked off to the side and seemed frustrated with me. "Come on, Duo. Do you really think everything's alright now?"

"No! That's why you have to let me talk to him!"

"He doesn't want to see you!" He shouted. "Let me put it this way: you were right and I was wrong. He's gay. You made him realize that. Congratulations. And now you've wrecked him. I mean, a sex-tape? Seriously? That is asking for trouble."

I stilled. "I know that was stupid," I finally said. "I know it was my fault. That's why I've been running around like a headless chicken these past couple of days trying to make things right! At least give me the chance to do that!"

"I want to, but it's not my choice. He knows you don't know where I live and he made me promise not to tell you."

"That is bullshit and you know it! You are not going to let me tell him that he can finish the year and graduate, at least?"

"I'm sorry. I made a promise," He insisted. "I'll tell him he can come back if he wants to. Although honestly, I'm not sure if he will."

"He's Heero, of course he'll come back. School is everything to him."

"I'm not so sure anymore. He seems more upset about losing you than anything else…"

Other team-members walked by us, most of them looking at us oddly. One of them patted me on the shoulder and I recognized his face from last night. "Awesome party, Maxwell," He commented in passing.

Trowa waited until they had gone inside and were out of earshot before he offered: "I can bring him a letter, if you want."

I groaned. "You've got to be kidding me with this 'I made a promise' crap!"

The tall swimmer looked back at me sternly.

I growled in frustration. "Fine! I'll write a letter. That'll be fucking romantic..." I looked down at my watch. "When is practice over?"

"I'll be heading home in approximately two hours," He answered dryly.

"Okay. I guess I should get started then. A rushed letter, even better," I snapped at him.

"I made a promise," He repeated.

"Yeah yeah yeah… I'll be back here in 'approximately two hours'." I jogged back to dorm building B and locked myself up in our room. I sat down on the lower bunk, which still smelled like both of us and took my sketchbook into my lap as a hard surface to write on.

Page after page was crumpled up and discarded. I was no good with words! Everything I wrote fell short of what I felt. How was I supposed to convince him to not only stop hating me, but to also start loving me when every poem I had ever written had started with "Roses are red"? I was more of a visual person and so was Heero.

I remembered one of the pictures that had been spread around campus was still on my desk and I got up to get it. I stared down at the image. It wasn't just sex. It couldn't be. Not for me and not for him. There was something there, I saw it in both our lustful gazes. Heero had to see that too, but he had always been too embarrassed to even really look at what was happening between us. I had to make him see and maybe I could by asking him to look at this picture more closely.

Boldly I wrote a variation of my previous attempts at a letter on the backside of the printed image and I folded it into a blank page torn from my notebook and taped the ends together to hide both the image- and the text-side from view. By the time I was done I had little time to spare, so I went to the parking lot and waited for Trowa.

Only a few minutes after I had arrived he walked out the building with his hair still wet and he looked at me expectantly.

I handed him the letter, wordlessly urging him to make him read it.

He nodded and stowed it away safely in his gym bag. "Give him some time, okay?"

"He can't afford to miss any more classes."

"I'm sure one more day won't make that much of a difference. Just… don't freak out if he's not back here first thing tomorrow. He can take the weekend if that's what he needs."

"Yeah. Yeah, okay. I won't start stalking you or anything."

He smiled slightly and got into his car. I waved goodbye halfheartedly and watched him drive off.

Heero didn't return the next day and in spite of Trowa's words, that had me worried.

I forced myself to go to class because I couldn't risk not graduating myself and after an unhealthy dinner I worked my regular evening shift at the bar. My heart sank every time someone came up to me and asked me if Heero was back yet. I didn't know what to tell them. I certainly wasn't going to spill any of the personal details of our troubled relationship, but some of these people did donate money so he could come back. I offered some bullshit excuse that the paperwork hadn't come through yet and that he couldn't start classes again until Monday. They didn't press on, few were actually interested to begin with, mostly it was just a segue for them to compliment or tease me about my awkward striptease. No one seemed put off by the fact that I was gay now. Their teasing was not malicious and it was more so about the video than about our sexual orientation, the reaction probably wouldn't have been much different if I had had sex with a girl in the leaked video. That was a relief, not so much for myself, but for Heero, because he had expressed being worried about other students judging us.

When I went home late at night I was nervous as I unlocked the door. Holding my breath, I stepped inside and hesitated before I flicked the lights on.

He still hadn't come back yet.

I slept in the lower bunk like I had the previous night. His scent was fading and I mostly smelled myself – pineapples and a rainstorm, as Heero had said. I smiled and remembered the drunken almost-kiss that had started it all. The memory seemed from so long ago and in a way it was, it was a different lifetime; I was a different person, we both were. It would be an altogether different lifetime once more if I had to go on without him.

On Saturday there was a knock on the door and I sat upright so violently that I bumped my head against the underside of the top bunk. Rubbing the top of my head I stumbled out of bed and towards the door. I was uncoordinated and dizzy but I managed to unlock the door and rip it open.

The hopeful expression fell from my face when I was met with Obie, holding a basketball tucked under his muscular arm.

"Jeez, I know I'm not the person you were hoping to see, but at least make an effort to hide your blatant disappointment," He joked in a valiant attempt to lighten my mood.

I muttered an apology and tiredly sat myself down in one of the desk chair – Heero's desk chair, but I was no longer sure if that mattered.

He invited himself into the room and closed the door behind him and put away the basketball on the foot end of the top bunk. "The place is a mess," He observed. "And so are you."

All I could do was shrug.

"Want to come shoot some hoops with me and the guys?" He picked up the basketball and spun it on his finger, nearly dropping it.

"I want to eat chocolate. Drink beer. Sleep. Repeat."

"Yeah, I was worried you would say that. Come on, get dressed. We've got to keep you in shape." He threw the ball at me and I reflexively caught it.

I held it in my lap and traced the black lines with my thumb. "I don't want to…"

"You'll feel better after a bit of a work-out. And then you can shower and look your best for when Heero shows up."

I snorted at his optimism.

"Come on! Please?"

The door burst open unannounced and WuFei barged in, barking: "I told you, you have to be harsh with him to get him off his ass. Come on, you slow-poke."

"What are you doing here?"

He disregarded my question and swatted the ball out of my lap and grabbed my wrists to hoist me up out of my seat. "Get dressed. We're playing ball."

I stared at him with a deepening frown. "Seriously, why are you here?" I tried to study his face but he was unreadable. "Did you hear from Heero? Do you know something I don't? Are you here for my emotional support?" I was uncomfortable with the amount of vulnerability in my voice but I lacked the motivation as well as the strength to pretend I was unaffected.

"I'm here to play basketball, Obie invited me to come play when I was at the bar Thursday." He replied simply, but then continued with a sigh: "I haven't heard from him. But I'm sure everything will turn out fine." He opened the closet and got out a pair of sweatpants and red T-shirt and threw it at me. "Let's go."

"Fine… Fine…" I unfolded the shirt but waited for them to leave. When they didn't I raised my eyebrows at them.

"Oh sure, now he is mister Modesty," Obie deadpanned, but with rumbling laughter he and WuFei exited the room and waited for me in the hallway.

Dressed in comfortable clothes and wearing my sport shoes I followed them to the fenced, outdoor basketball court where a couple of our regular teammates were waiting.

It took me while to get invested in the game. I couldn't help but feel like my friends were preparing me to move on with my life and I caught myself being distracted by their faces, wondering if I could detect some measure of pity in them, but their expressions solely betrayed a focus on the ball. None of them went easy on me and didn't refrain from expressing their displeasure when I missed a couple of shots that I normally would have made if my thoughts weren't so all over the place. I snarled back at them – "You were the ones who insisted that I should play!" – but their ribbing successfully incited me and I didn't miss the next shot.

We had been playing for about two hours when one of the guys from the other team announced he had to shower and get dressed for his date. Being the immature boys that we were we mocked him as he walked off.

"Don't forget to blow-dry your hair!"

"Leave enough time to polish your nails!"

"Make sure your purse matches your shoes!" I joined in.

They looked at me a little oddly and then one of them made the obvious joke that surely they had all been dying to make, but a little too apprehensive to do so. "That's 'Queer eye for the straight guy' right there."

I blinked and my momentary silence unnerved them. They were all visibly relieved when I started to laugh.

"You're so fucking gay, Duo," Obie said as lighthearted banter.

"Yeah… doesn't it make you all feel uncomfortable that I'm gay and yet I've still had more pussy than all of you?" I shot back.

The group roared with laughter.

"Oh, snap! Maxwell takes no prisoners."

"If I did you'd all be my bitch."

They protested loudly at the assertion but never stopped laughing, until one of them asked: "How are we going to play with uneven teams?"

Before any of them could suggest that two hours had been plenty long enough, I replied: "Players on the bigger team could take turns on the bench." Although I had been reluctant to join them on the court initially, I was enjoying the distraction and I didn't want to go back to the room and worry about all sorts of things. Ready for a refreshing drink I said: "I'll sit this one out." I slipped through the gate and took a seat on the bench – the bench where Heero and I had kissed that one night – and took a drink from one of the bottles of water we had purchased in advance.

I watched the game closely, it was all I could do to stop my mind from wandering; from remembering the soft, wet sounds his lips made when I kissed him tenderly and the way his chest heaved with quickened breaths when I wrapped my arms around him and held him to me tightly.

Obie made an excellent pass to WuFei, who dribbled towards the other end for the opponent's net. Just as he reached the three-point line the Chinese man stopped dead in his tracks and the ball, with its forward momentum, escaped him and was easily picked up by one of the guys from the other team, but he, too, halted suddenly and before long all six players were looking off in the same direction, with frozen, dumbfounded expressions on their faces.

"What?" I turned my head to follow their line of sight and shot up from the bench when a slender figure dressed in black skinny jeans and a denim blouse came into focus.

Heero paused a few yards away. He looked at me intently. His right hand adjusted the strap of his heavy duffel bag on his shoulder.

I started towards him – my heart nearly leaping from my chest – but then I stopped myself as I realized he might not have come back to me, but only intended to finish his classes and graduate. I had given him that option in my letter and I would accept it, albeit heartbroken, if that had been his decision. My breaths were shaky and uneven as I watched and waited.

Without breaking eye-contact he reached up his hand again and this time he pulled the strap off his shoulder and carefully lowered the bag to the concrete ground.

I heard the other guys move to the far end of the court to give us some privacy, quietly talking among themselves, but I paid them no heed.

He took his first step towards me, hesitated briefly, but then walked up to me and he didn't stop until we were as close together as we could be without touching.

At that point I had stopped breathing.

His eyebrows twitched into a brief frown. His beautiful eyes were stormy but I couldn't tell what he was thinking. "I've been wanting to punch you so much these past couple of days," He admitted in a low whisper.

I opened my mouth but could produce no sound.

He moved and I reactively squeezed my eyes shut, expecting to be socked in the face, but instead I felt his hands on my neck and he pushed himself up on the tips of his toes, pressing our chests together and his lips met mine demandingly.

Relief crashed into me a tidal wave, so much so that I nearly lost my balance. I shifted my feet and leaned into him, my arms encircled his slim waist and I kissed him back feverishly and gratefully.

He was back. He was mine.

The group of guys that had been watching us not-so-secretively erupted in whistles and catcalls and my heart clenched. I was afraid they might chase him away, as if he hadn't previously been aware of their presence and would be startled by them. But he bravely didn't allow the kiss to falter and he didn't part our mouths until he was satisfied. He pulled back just far enough for me to see his softened expression.

My lips formed a silly smile and he smiled back at me.

Finally, he said: "I love you too."

_Heero,_

_A picture is worth a thousand words. This picture is no exception._

_There are the obvious words that everyone can see: Sex, Gay, Sweat, Heat, Lust... 999 words are used to say all that is on the surface and though each of those words is a part of the truth, the last word is the most important. The word no one heard or saw, even though I see it clearly now and I should have told you again and again. The thousandth word is Love._

_I love you._

_If Love is not something you see in this picture, than please, at least come back to finish school. Your tuition is paid. Get your degrees. Go to Seattle. Forget about us; forget about these thousand words and forgive me that I won't._

_In you I have found the love that I have been searching for my entire life. You complete me. I was too scared to tell you before. I'm not scared anymore. If you love me too, I hope you won't be afraid either. If we're brave enough, we can make this work and I won't let you down again. Come back to me; make me whole. I will make love to you properly, and I will love you forever._

_Love,_

_Duo_

* * *

**THE END**

* * *

**Wow, another story complete. And it only took me three years -.-**

**Everyone, thank you so much for reading. I would be honored if you would share your final thoughts on the story with me.**


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